Harry Potter has some of the best erotic fanfic I’ve seen and this story is no exception. Written by mercuryidols and posted on Harry Potter Fanfic Archive, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
Harry Potter’s Ghostly Experience – Chapter 1 written by mercuryidols
“What a cunt!”
“Harry, really!” gasped Hermione as Cedric Diggory tramped away from them along the bridge and back to the castle.
“Oh come on, Hermione,” snarled Harry. “When I warned him about the dragons in the first task, I said ‘Cedric, it’s dragons.’ He said to me: ‘Are you sure?’ and I said: ‘Yes, they’ve got one for each of us.’ And now he comes here trying to return the favour and he gives me a fucking RIDDLE!” Harry’s fury was almost palpable. “Just because the smarmy bastard has figured his egg out and I haven’t. Dick!”
Hermione didn’t know what to say, never having heard such a tirade from her normally mild-mannered friend.
“Take a bath with your egg,” said Harry in a mocking tone. “At least if I use the prefects’ bathroom I’ll get a bit of peace.”
Hermione smiled weakly and, she thought, encouragingly.
“I wonder if I can get that Hufflepuff second year to join me,” he thought aloud. “You know, the black girl with the red streaks in her hair.”
His companion snorted loudly and stormed off towards Hagrid’s hut. Harry jammed his hands into his pockets and stomped off in the opposite direction towards the castle and the current bane of his life, the egg.
****************************************** LATER THAT NIGHT ****************************************
Harry was so lost in thoughts of what the mer-people would take and how he might get it back that he barely noticed Myrtle snuggle up to him in the bath.
“You must really like the Head Girl, Harry” This was accompanied by a little giggle as Myrtle moved closer, giving the impression she was pressed up against him. “It’s obvious how much she enjoys your company.”
“How do you know?” Harry was slightly shocked.
Myrtle pouted slightly as she spoke. “If you don’t want me to know about your conquests Harry, don’t fuck them in the shower!”
Realisation dawned on Harry. He had indeed done exactly that the evening before and of course Myrtle knew about it because she loved moving around the castle’s plumbing system.
“I don’t mind, you know.” She smiled at him again. “I get horny watching you.” She leaned her face close to his neck and lowered her voice almost to a whisper. “Such a big cock to please the girls with.” She gave a tiny gasp as she thought how much she could have enjoyed having it inside her had she been a little more corporeal. “And they do get pleased, don’t they?”
Harry was slightly confused. “How does a ghost get horny?” he asked, before stopping himself. “Hang on a minute,” he moved slightly to look in to Myrtle’s face. “How many times have you watched me?” There was incredulity in his voice; not that he had been watched, but that he had been spied on. After all he had been with the Patils at the Yule Ball and each sister had watched him fucking the other. But he knew about that; it was part of the game that night. This was different; Myrtle had never had his permission.
“A few times,” she said slightly guiltily. “I don’t always stick to my bathroom you know.”
“And you enjoyed watching?” he asked.
“Every thrust,” was her breathy reply.
With the thought sinking in, Harry was beginning to like the idea of being watched. In fact, he felt a familiar stirring. He looked at the silvery girl with a smile.
“So how does a ghost get horny?”
“It’s like when you have a dream,” she explained. “If you hurt yourself in your dream, you feel pain; if you get scared, you feel fear; if you get horny, well then you feel horny. I may not have a body, but I can still feel.” She lifted both hands up high out of the water. “It’s doing something about it that’s the problem.” As she spoke, she touched her right hand to her left forearm. Harry watched with interest as Myrtle’s hand passed straight through her outstretched arm without the slightest hint of resistance.
“I can’t masturbate; I can’t get any release.” Her voice was sad. “People think I’m miserable because I’m dead. I’m miserable because I can’t get off!” A little sob followed her unhappy statement.
Without thinking, the caring side of Harry’s nature opened its mouth.
“Is there a way I can help?” Mentally he kicked himself. Myrtle wasn’t much of a looker as a ghost. Perhaps if she had been a real person, with real skin colour instead of the greyish-white monotone translucence she was lumbered with, she might have made it on to Harry’s radar. Maybe. There was another coy giggle.
“Ooh, Harry. It’s been so long since anyone tried.” She floated herself out of the bath and sat on the side. Below, Harry turned in the water to face her and watched with interest as she parted her legs in front of him. To his surprise, he found himself looking at her ghostly privates.
“My boyfriend dared me to go without underwear the day I died.” Myrtle seemed to have anticipated his question. “Thank God he did, because I don’t think even you could make me cum otherwise.”
Harry looked up at her and smiled weakly before returning his gaze to possibly the most intriguing pussy he had ever seen. Two things struck him about Myrtle’s slit. First, it was very neat. Her outer labia were slightly puffy with what Harry assumed was anticipation and they perfectly framed her thin inner lips. Wisps of fine hair were barely visible along her length. But the most striking thing Harry noticed was a bright, silvery glow shining from between her inner lips. It was similar to the glow caused by the patches of blood covering the Bloody Baron’s robes.
“Erm, Myrtle,” Harry looked up at the ghost, slightly confused. “How do I make you cum?”
Myrtle looked down at him with desire. “You have to be gentle. You need to use the lightest of possible touches otherwise you’ll just break through me.”
Harry wasn’t entirely sure what she meant, but thought he’d better make a start. Lifting his hand from the water, he examined Myrtle’s snatch again and approached her slowly. Deciding to start on her clitoris, he made contact with her as lightly as he possible could. Entirely incongruously to his previous experiences, her “skin” was cold and there was absolutely no movement when he touched her. Myrtle sighed softly and a satisfied noise escaped her lips; the sigh turned to a grunt as Harry pushed down. His fingers had disappeared in to the ghost. Not via her vagina, as Harry was traditionally used to, but through the point where her pubic bone should be. Sudden cold enveloped his fingers.
“That’s too hard, Harry.” Myrtle sounded a little frustrated as she looked down at him. “Think of it as trying to touch water without making a ripple. You need to be very gentle.”
Harry removed his fingers from the cold of her insides, through her pubic bone. He wasn’t sure he would ever get used to seeing that. He took a breath and, moving his fingers carefully, approached her pussy again. This time he watched closely until his finger seemed to touch her clitoris. There was a cold soft feeling, like gently pressing against bubbles in a foamy bath – the irony was not lost on Harry. He felt a faint buzzing sensation on the tip of his finger. He looked up at Myrtle to see her eyes closed and her bottom lip caught gently between her teeth. Taking this as a sign that he was getting it right, he returned his gaze to her clit and attempted a little movement, trying to ensure he didn’t push his finger past this spectral barrier.
As he moved, he began to hear little gasps from above him. Myrtle’s eyes remained closed while her mouth had opened. Acting on pure instinct and muscle memory, Harry pressed down against her clit in an effort to boost the pleasure she was obviously feeling.
“Nooo!” Myrtle complained instantly as Harry’s finger sank through her once more. He apologised as he withdrew his finger and set himself up for another attempt. The glowing silvery sheen of her insubstantial pussy fluid was wider now, and Harry wondered if he could spread it around as he would with a living girl. Instead of approaching her clitoris, this time he moved towards Myrtle’s labia. As gently as he could, he touched the shining lips and moved his fingers up and down softly. Myrtle gasped again as Harry worked along her ghostly slit up towards her clit; the glow of her secretion followed his finger up to her nub as she let out a moan of pleasure.
“Ooh Harry, that feels perfect!” Harry smiled to himself as he worked. He was used to speeding things up by now, but forced himself to remain calm and work methodically. Cautiously, he moved his finger back down along her lips, always feeling for the faint buzz of contact. Myrtle’s breathing deepened as he began moving his finger back up towards her silver-grey button. The glow coming from Myrtle’s pussy was growing as she became more and more aroused and Harry continued to spread her “pussy juice” around.
Once again he focussed delicately on her clit, rubbing over and around, barely touching the girl who would have been in her seventies had she lived. More moans and squeaks came from above Harry’s head as he continued his attention. He was becoming accustomed to how hard he could touch her and was able to speed up his work on her. This brought a sharp gasp and a louder moan from above; he suddenly stopped, ceasing all contact and looking up at Myrtle with a wicked smile.
Harry looked back at Myrtle’s now brightly shining mound and resumed his actions. Once again, he started slowly, tracing the lines of her slit and working up towards her clit. He had the measure of the ghost now and knew exactly what pressure and speed to use as he worked her up. As he addressed her clitoris again, he felt the buzz of contact begin to increase in intensity. The gasping sounds from above him became faster and higher-pitched and he watched entranced as a trickle of Myrtle’s glowing pussy juice left her vagina and rolled over her anus before dripping on to the edge of the bath, where it faded and was washed away by the bath water. Her pussy and her puckered little arsehole started flexing as an ethereal orgasm began to swallow her.
Harry continued alternating between rubbing Myrtle’s clit and running the length of her pulsing slit. The gasps and squeaks eventually became a wail-cum-scream as the first orgasm she had experienced in God only knew how many years evolved and grew. More silvery essence flowed from her and her entire form began to glow brighter and pulse in time with her clenching pussy. Harry was working hard to concentrate on the task at hand when Myrtle disappeared. The bathroom was eerily silent and a shade or two darker from suddenly not having the spirit’s pulsing glow.
As suddenly as she had disappeared, Myrtle returned to the bathroom, this time in the corner by the door. Still glowing and pulsing brightly, she was also accompanied by her continuing orgasmic wail. Again she disappeared and reappeared in a different place; by the top of the stained glass window this time. The mermaid in the window turned to look at Myrtle as she began flying quickly round the room. She was contorting herself as if under the cruciatus, but the noise she was making had become tempered as her first orgasm in untold years faded.
Slowly she stopped bucking and flying around and returned to the bath. She sat on the edge dangling her legs in the water and cast Harry a shy, embarrassed look. Harry was smiling up at her, amazed at the way her sudden pulsing glow faded, gently returning her to her original monotone translucence.
Myrtle slipped herself back in to the water, still recovering her breath.
“Thank you, Harry,” she said with a gasp. “Even when I had a body, nobody could make me cum that hard.” She moved herself in front of him. She was as close as she could get without touching. “Are you ready?” she asked with a grin. Harry nodded.