HP ficlet: Some Like Them Wet [Harry, Moaning Myrtle, adult]
Title: Some Like Them Wet Author: celandineb Fandom: HP Characters: Harry, Moaning Myrtle Rating: adult Length: 371 words Warnings: voyeurism, wanking, chan (Harry is 14) Summary: Myrtle hadn't expected to see Harry Potter here, but she has no objections. Note: For quill_it, 100.3, prompt 4, "wet". For curtana who wanted Myrtle with this prompt.
Myrtle leaned forward eagerly as Harry entered the prefects' bathroom. She remembered him well from two years before when he and his friends had used her toilet to mix their Polyjuice Potion, but she hadn't expected to get a chance to see him here unless he became a prefect, and he was still a year too young for that.
The Golden Egg gave it away; Cedric Diggory must have told Harry the password to get in here. Myrtle wriggled with pleasure. Cedric was one of her favourites to watch; he nearly always gave her a good show, although of course he didn't know that she was there to see him. She wondered if Harry would take advantage of the privacy too.
At first she thought she might be disappointed. He put so much foam in the tub that she could see hardly anything except for his wet chest, which was attractive enough and all, but she hoped for more. Perhaps she should get into the tub herself. It was large enough that if she stayed at the far end, he wouldn't feel the chill of her presence. Myrtle didn't especially like watching the prefects from underwater, as the ripples distorted everything, but she might never have another chance to see Harry and she didn't want to miss it.
Sure enough, he was playing with himself, as she had thought he might be from the arm motions she had seen through the bubbles. Young though he was, he really had a lovely prick. Myrtle was a bit of a connoisseur, having had the opportunity to see and compare so many over the years, and Harry's was of a good size and nicely proportioned. She watched, enthralled, as it turned a deeper red under Harry's stroking fingers, and soon pulsed out its pearly load into the water, the viscous blobs dissolving as they drifted down toward Myrtle's end of the tub.
There would be nothing else to see, now. Myrtle slipped back out through the pipes to find out if Harry would now guess what he needed to do with the Golden Egg. If he didn't, she thought, she would give him a hint. He deserved a reward for entertaining her so well.