A TIGHT FIT
Harry traced the ragged contours of Mad-Eye Moody's nose with a delicate finger. "The hottest part about you- Ow!" He had bumped his head.
"What?" asked Moody, suspiciously, his magical eye swiveling madly under the relaxing touch of young jailbait.
"Your nose." Harry finished, rubbing his head with a grimace.
Moody blinked an eye.
"Your nose is the sexiest part about you. Did you know that?" Harry's tongue took the finger's place.
"P-Potter... what are you planning." Moody groaned.
Harry's trembling cock took the place of his tongue. "I must take you," he hissed.
Harry thrust into the large crevice in Moody's nose. "Oh, Merlin, it feels so tight!"
The magical eye whirled, unable to focus on anything specific. "You'll make a fine auror someday, Potter," Moody managed to say, under the onslaught of olfactory goodness.
"Why, because my aim is so excellent?" drawled Harry, seductively, giving a particularly delightful thrust into the cavity.
"Excellent beyond belief," croaked Moody, his normal eye rolling back, and his magical eye now fixated on his own pulsating member. "Oh... wait, I think I'm laying on a stale loaf of bread."
"Who cares," Harry grunted.
The small door opened. The rigid figure of Kreacher stood silhouetted within the frame. "WHAT!" it shrieked. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN KREACHER'S CUBBY HOLE!"