Lily Evans was a lot of things.

She was a daughter, a sister, a feminist, a vegetarian, a student, a witch.

Lily Evans loved many different things.

She loved caramel, strawberries, deer, peonies, rain, and James Potter.

The last one on that list did not count.

She fell in love with him at the spiraling end of 6th year.

He had always been so arrogant, such a ladies man, a prankster, and frankly altogether too much.

Until she saw him teary eyed and rescuing a baby bird. The whole thing opened her eyes just a bit. That's not exactly how she fell in love but it gave her the ability to see him a bit clearer and then all of a sudden she was in love with the boy she had sworn she hated.

Normally, this would delight people, the whole falling in love experience.

It did not delight Lily Evans.

Lily Evans would date the hell out of James Potter.

… If she wasn't so sure that he would not be compatible in the bedroom… or every other available place she felt like it.

Look, Lily had of course heard all about his prowess in the bedroom and how wonderfully endowed he was.

That's all well and good.

Really it was.

But, it seemed like he had about three moves in the bedroom.

Which, again, is fine and all.

If you liked sex to be bland and vanilla.

Lily didn't.

Lily grew up in a really open home, one that promoted equality and one that insisted on her having autonomy and not telling her she couldn't do things with or too her body.

She had, like plenty of little kids, touched herself all time when she was younger.

She hadn't known she was masturbating.

She also hadn't known why she had freaked out a few babysitters when they walked in on her.

Just as well, she and her friends had figured out how to make each other come by the time they were seven.

It wasn't sexual in nature; it was just honest exploration.

However, these acts of explorations definitely helped her figure out what she liked.

What she liked was the idea of being someone's perfect little girl.

She wanted to be Daddy's fucktoy, his perfect little cumslut.

The idea of it alone had her wet and aching.

She wanted to be respected of course; damn straight, no one would ever disrespect her or not listen to her.

James Potter already knew that she was to be obeyed.

He just didn't know that she wanted to obey in the bed.

She was a lady.

One who just happened to have a very particular taste when it came to sex.

She was a kinky little shit and she knew it and reveled in it.

She wanted forced orgasms, to be eaten out like she was a grand buffet, to give blowjobs and have him fuck her face for breakfast lunch and dinner.

She wanted to wear a hands free bullet with him holding the controller, making her orgasm, and come repeatedly in potions class.

She wanted to have fun working with breath play and she wanted to be spanked when she disobeyed.

She wanted so much to be in public not wearing underwear with a bullet in her while he got her off in the dining hall in front of everyone.

She wanted to give him hand jobs in class.

She wanted to wear his come under her clothes.

She wanted so much.

She would date the hell out of James Potter if she didn't think he might be boring in bed.