WHAT THE SQUID SAW
By Your Cruise Director

Snape gave an uncomfortable squirm. He did not wish to leave the sheltered, hidden spot in the tall grass where he and Lupin had fallen asleep after swimming, but they had drunk a great deal of butterbeer while sitting in the sun, and his bladder was becoming more insistent by the moment that he needed to empty it. His damp trunks clung to his legs, and he did not relish the thought of having to peel them down far enough to remove his prick for a piss. Moreover, although the students presumably were all in their classes, there was always the possibility that some arrogant delinquent had flung his father's invisibility cloak over his head and crept down to the lake.

From the steady breathing beside him, Snape guessed that Lupin was sound asleep. It was only a few days after the full moon and the werewolf was not entirely recovered from his transformation, though his sexual appetite had returned with a vengeance: the night before he had ordered Snape to prepare himself, then bound him to his own bedposts and given him a thorough fucking. Snape could still feel pleasantly nostalgic twinges if he tensed the muscles in his arse, and his prick jolted slightly at the memory, which was more uncomfortable since he urgently needed to relieve himself.

Perhaps, he ruminated, there was no need to move. Lupin was still sleeping, pressed against his back, and his swimsuit was wet already, wasn't it? Shifting his knees apart slightly, he thrust his pelvis forward and attempted to angle it toward the ground. A quiet hissing sound accompanied the rush of heat as he released an experimental jet into his suit...ahh, that felt too good to stop.

There was a sudden rustle behind him, and quicker than he could roll onto his belly to hide the fresh stream pouring through his swimsuit, a hand had snaked over his hip to settle on his groin. "I hear a piss," Lupin announced in his ear, cupping his palm over the proof as Snape blushed scarlet. "Are you letting it out right here, Severus? That's very naughty."

"My suit was already wet and I didn't want to wake you..." Snape began to explain, trying to wriggle away from the curious fingers, but Lupin would have none of it.

"Are you in the habit of yielding to your prick wherever it wants? If you were sitting in the library and you got the urge, would you make a puddle under the table and Scourgify it away?" Snape whimpered softly -- he hadn't done that since he was a fourth-year, and he'd been certain no one was around. "Or at Quidditch matches? Do those heavy robes hide a flood in your pants?"

"You have a filthy mind," groaned Snape, but Lupin was only getting started, moving his hand over Snape's prick as the hot spray now flowing down his legs and around the side of his swimsuit began to falter.

"Maybe that's why you always wear black, so in public no one can see the damp spot growing here before you charm it away. What about in bed? Do you wet the covers from underneath so you can watch it spread? Or do you lie on your belly so the puddle collects under you while you piss, and you can wank in it after you've finished?"

Snape wanted to explain that he didn't actually get aroused from his own piss, but Lupin's hand had him completely hard now and he suspected that he would not be believed. "You find that exciting, Lupin?" he managed to gasp instead. The hand pulled away from his groin, grasping his hip to pull him on to his back, and Lupin threw a leg over his body to mount him.

Snape could see his own shamefully soaked swimsuit with the outline of his hard prick tenting it upward, and he moaned again when Lupin reached down to adjust him beneath the dirty fabric. "I think you need to be punished, Severus," said the werewolf, rising above him with his knees on either side and reaching into his own swimsuit to withdraw his penis. It was slightly plumper than usual -- Lupin was, indeed, excited -- but he gave it a squeeze and pushed it down. As Snape watched, a golden waterfall burst from the tip and poured over his lap, making a spattering noise. Lupin kept the stream aimed directly at his prick, which twitched and throbbed.

"Go ahead and stroke it," Lupin ordered. With a groan Severus obeyed, sliding a hand into his swimsuit. As he did so, Lupin raised the spray so that it went arcing onto Snape's belly, then his chest. Snape wondered whether Lupin was going to piss on his face to punish him, on his mouth even. With a loud cry he arched and came in his swimsuit, coating his hand with thicker fluid while Lupin trickled out on his belly.

"Thank you for my punishment," Snape managed to croak out when he caught his breath, though he was still flushed red and mortified that he'd come so quickly. Lupin shot him an incredulous look.

"That wasn't your punishment. That...was only fair. You'll be punished properly later. But now you need to wash off." Wrinkling his nose in exaggerated disdain, Lupin tucked himself back into his swim trunks and slid off Snape, rising and helping him to his feet. With a quick glance around to be certain that they were still alone, he led him to the water.

The Giant Squid, which had been watching the proceedings from a discreet spot in the lake, sighed and plunged below. In its years observing Hogwarts students and teachers, there were few odd human behaviors that it had never witnessed -- Lucius Malfoy, for instance, had been one kinky self-abusing bastard, and when Sirius Black had turned into a dog there was nothing and no one he wouldn't piss on, which was probably where Remus Lupin had learned to enjoy it.

But it was probably just as well that Severus Snape didn't know that. He was now accepting being splashed with uncharacteristic good humor, and the Squid was under the impression that rather than fearing his later punishment, Snape was smugly congratulating himself on having earned it.