Hey, do I get the first fic entry?

Good idea, Moony. This should be fun.

Wrote this in... January. God. Only ever been posted to a single mailing list, so probably no one's seen it before.


Harry leaned forward into the wind as he flew, relishing the sensation of freedom that always came with playing Quidditch - and the new feel of the lace rubbing between the broom and his crotch. He circled the pitch, half his attention on the game below him and the other half concentrating on his intense arousal. The edge of the underwear brushed the top of his thigh lightly, making him shiver.

He leaned forward a little more to brush against the hard wood of his broomstick. Malfoy gave him a curious glance.

Harry had found the knickers before the start of term, shopping for his books in Diagon Alley. They were baby pink, petite, with small lace frills along the edges. The main section was also lace, a delicate weave that rubbed him in just the right way. He'd seen them in a shop window, and been intrigued. It wasn't something he had ever given thought to, but they seemed to call to him. He'd walked into the shop, on the pretense of buying something for an imaginary girlfriend, and walked out with the pair.

It had taken him three weeks to work up the courage to wear them. And oh - what a day to choose! He hadn't known it when he decided to put them on that morning, but riding a broomstick in them was just incredible. He'd never been this turned on.

Harry spied the snitch and dove, leaning so far into his broom that he nearly lay across it. His gasp of pleasure was lost in the cheers as his fingers closed around the ball, and he flew slowly down to the ground.

It took all of his willpower to actually get off the broom.

He slowly walked into the changing rooms with the rest of his team, for once choosing a stall rather than the communal showers. He stripped quickly, until he stood in nothing but the pink panties, which strained against his erection. He turned the shower on to disguise the sound then glanced around, checking no one was nearby as he dropped a hand onto the fabric.

He stifled a gasp, pressing down and then stroking, smoothing the lace into his skin and feeling the pattern pressing into him. There was a slight wet spot in the front, evidence of his arousal, and he had the presence of mind to realise he would probably ruin the fabric if he came over them.

Reluctantly, Harry slid the knickers down and off. He gazed at them a moment, holding them up to his face and breathing in. Perfect. He slid his right hand back down, squeezing gently.

Remembered the Quidditch team in the showers to his left, he picked up the pace - stroking up and down, the panties still held to his nose as he inhaled the scent. He squeezed harder and bit his lip to keep from breathing too loudly.

It was over too quickly for Harry's liking; at seventeen anything that intense couldn't last long. He brought his hand up to lap at the come, stepping under the water. The knickers were dropped to the floor on top of the rest of his clothes and he cleaned himself perfunctorily before turning off the shower.

As he put his clothes back on he shivered once more at the feeling of the lace. He smirked to himself. That had certainly been a worthwhile purchase.

Maybe next time he'd get Ron to join in.