A/N: Back again! I actually had a different fic planned to post next, but then I got a lovely Filch/Lily suggestion from a reader and this one popped into my head. I couldn't resist throwing together this quick bit of fun. So thank you so much for the suggestion!
Mind the warnings, and enjoy!
WARNINGS: PWPsmut, student/teacher, oral sex
Lily knocks lightly on the roughshod wooden door, waiting quietly until she hears the raspy, " 'Wot?" from the other side.
She opens the door slowly, and pokes her head inside. "Mr. Filch?"
The aging caretaker's rheumy gaze shoots up from where he sits hunched over his desk, scouring reports. On the corner of the desk, Mrs. Norris perches, her feline regard equally as sharp and hostile. The small, windowless office is lit dimly. Tall filing cabinets line the perimeter, filled no doubt with more reports and rules and recriminations. The faint light glints off the collection of chains and manacles hanging bright and shiny on the walls.
It is not the first time Lily contemplates the kind of fun she might get up to with some of those toys, but it's the first time she's in a position to get herself closer to indulging in the fantasies.
Even though, at the moment, Filch does not seem eager for company.
" 'Wot you doing here?" the caretaker asks, growly and suspicious.
Lily walks further into the office, closing the door behind her. "I was hoping to speak with you."
Filch snorts dismissively, looking back down at his papers. "Haven't got time."
"Yes, well, about that." She moves closer. "I believe you're expecting James Potter soon? For detention?"
"Ah." Glancing over his shoulder, Filch snarls a crooked smile. "That's what this is then, eh? Come to try and talk me out of giving that filthy beast his rightful punishment? And after all the nights I've caught the pair of you out after hours? Pft!"
Lily stifles an eye roll, instead striving to look contrite. Admittedly, the caretaker does have a point—he's caught her and James out of bed (and often, out of their clothes) after curfew together a few too many times for her to play innocent now. Despite James earning this particular detention all on his own, Lily is hardly an angel in the caretaker's estimation. And her attempt to bargain for her boyfriend's time now likely isn't helping the situation. Still, circumstances required her intervention—any other night, Lily would've dutifully given up James to pay the detention piper himself, but tonight was a full moon, and James was needed to help Remus. Knowing Filch, he would keep James busy the entire night, and Sirius and Peter would be left to take care of Remus alone. Lily needed to step in.
Besides which, she had a plan, and she has got a few advantages on her side. For one, Filch doesn't seem to despise her nearly as much as he unequivocally despises James. The request has a much better chance of passing if given by her.
And for second—and more importantly here—she'd have to be blind not to have noticed the way Filch's eyes remained glued on her during several of those aforementioned interrupted naked moments.
She fully intends to joyfully exploit that now.
"Mr. Filch." She steps up to the desk, quirking a hip against its side. "If you'd only listen—"
"Ha!"
"—I truly think we can come to a…mutually beneficial compromise."
Filch's bushy gray eyebrows shoot up at the last three words, and likely the way she'd grinned seductively as she'd said them. He doesn't move, but Mrs. Norris shifts closer to Lily, hissing and fussing until Lily reaches out and gives the cat a soothing pet. The feline preens into the caress, then hisses again, and hops up onto the nearest file cabinet.
Lily smiles. "Pretty pussy."
When she turns back to Filch, his dark scowl has become more contemplative. His eyes rove her—her legs, her tits, her face. There's a new glint in his bulging, pale eyes.
"That so?" He fidgets slightly, twisting in his chair until his legs are facing more toward Lily rather than under the desk. He leans back as far as he can with his perennially hunched spine. "What kind of compromise is that?"
Lily shrugs her shoulders coyly, making sure to roll them back afterward so her chest and tits thrust out to their best advantage. "I have a few ideas."
"Hm?"
"Would you consider a trade of services?" Lily's finger toys with some of the papers on the desk. "Instead of him…would you take me?"
Filch visibly stiffens. "Why ought I?"
"Because you're a generous man," Lily says. "And I'm very…very…good."
"At?"
Lily slowly licks her lips. "Cleaning."
The underlying invitations are clearly not lost on him. Lily watches the caretaker twitch again, familiar enough with male behaviour to know when one is readjusting to accommodate a stiffening cock. The fact that he's readjusting toward her is promising, and Lily knows this is the moment to seal the deal. With preplanned ease, the fingers she'd had toying with the papers on his desk flick a bit too hard and several of the sheets drift slowly down to the floor. Neither Lily nor Filch watch them fall. Instead, they watch each other.
"Oops," Lily says, still holding his gaze. "Best get those."
The caretaker's pointed stare never leaves her as Lily gingerly drops down to the floor. She crawls closer to Filch on her hands and knees, reaching to gather papers that are nowhere in that direction. Still, she shifts nearer. She's practically between his legs now.
And, she notices with triumph, the caretaker's hands have moved ever-so-subtly down to his lap.
She can't help the smug, slutty smile creeping over her face.
She loves when her plans work.
"See?" she tells him, giddy with lust and victory as the man slowly begins to unbutton his trousers. "I told you I'm a very good…and eager…replacement."
Filch lowers his zip and grins lecherously, revealing his crooked and yellowed teeth. "I'll need to see more…cleaning," he says.
Lily gives up all pretense of innocence and drops her head until she's nuzzling against Filch's crotch. He moans in contentment at her forwardness, at the game finally beginning.
"Of course, sir," she says. "Happy to please you."
Filch instantly springs into action. With a guttural growl, he lifts up from his seat only enough to unceremoniously thrust his trousers and pants down, the material pooling around his shins. He spreads his legs wide, and gives Lily the first glimpse of his cock. Surrounded by graying pubic hair, it's pale, decent in size, and still growing as the caretaker fists himself and begins to wank it slowly to life. His quick movements and laboured breathing cause his pair of rather large balls to bobble with the motions as well, and Lily watches it all eagerly. She hasn't had a cock since early this morning, and clearly that's too long. She crawls closer again, immediately reaching out to take over stroking the hot, hard prick herself.
There's nothing quite like the thrilling feeling of a new dick in her hands.
Her fingers curl around the thick staff, beginning to move as she glances up at Filch and asks, "So we have an agreement, then?"
In answer, the caretaker grabs the back of her head, thrusts it toward his crotch, and orders, "Clean."
Lily is more than happy to oblige.
"Oh, fuck—" Filch jerks upward in his seat at the first clamp of her lips, his dick sliding inside her hot mouth. She flicks her tongue around the tip of the quickly hardening rod, then gives a good, long suck, taking more into her mouth. Suctioning all the way up, she releases it only long enough to spit some more lubrication onto the shaft, then wanks it a few more times until it was satin and steely and wet. She flicks her eyes back up to Filch as she returns the cock to her impatient lips, stifling the grin when she finds him with his head thrown back and his eyes closed.
From up on the file cabinet, Mrs. Norris seems to be purring contently.
"Ahh—you fucking whore," Filch mutters, grunting in satisfaction as Lily bobs again, covering his prick completely. "You brilliant fucking whore. M-more. Suck! Suck—yes—harder."
Lily compiles, taking more. Longer. Farther. Harder.
She services him steadily until her lips are fairly chapped with the efforts.
"Do you like this, sir?" she asks, fisting him again, stroking up and down as her tongue swirls around his cockhead. "Have I waxed it enough? Nice and wet and clean?" Her lips and hand dip downward. She cups his balls. "Do these need a polish, too?"
"Yes," Filch hisses. He stumbles clumsily to his feet, giving her better access. She blows her warmth breath tantalizingly against his balls before grinning and setting to work. Her face up between his inner thighs, she sucks at his sac, laving first one of his balls, then the other.
"Pull out those bubbies," Filch orders, fervent and panting. "Let me see 'em."
As she continues licking, Lily balances herself with one hand and hastily begins unbuttoning her school shirt with the other. Filch's breathing becomes increasingly uneven as more skin is revealed. Not wanting to waste time negotiating straps or layers, Lily merely scoops her tits out of her flimsy bra cups and sets the large globes jiggling teasingly with more heady sucks of his sac.
Filch makes a sound of pleasure, reaching down to roll and pinch her nipple. Hard. "Yes, pussy cat. Keep licking."
Lily complies happily, squirming at the pain-pleasure of the caretaker's rough fondling. Her tongue takes a few last swipes at his balls, then lingeringly trails upward, leaving a wet path up his shaft, from root to bulbous tip. She worships the veiny, jutting staff, then places her mouth over the cockhead again, giving a few twirls and a suck, tasting the salty sweetness of the precum already leaking there.
Then she rises up on her knees and takes his cock down her throat again.
Filch's hips instantly jerk forward, forcing himself even farther down.
He clearly loves her throat.
"Yes—uh—just like—fuck." He stops as she swallows, closing his eyes and likely enjoying the tight clamp and warmth. "Saw you doing this to the Potter bastard once," he mutters. "Ought've known you were a desperate slut then. On your knees. Bent over desks. Against walls. Walked in on you so many times, like you'd bloody planned it."
They actually had, once or twice, when the exhibitionist kink kicked in. Filch was always a good one to have stumble in, as he'd never tell. He'd be too ashamed, considering he often watched and lingered for far longer than it took to tell them off and send them away.
"You're nothing but a panting tart." His hips begin to hump against her face. It's a faster, punishing pace. She loves it. "You and that eager mouth…begging to be filled…begging for a taste of this meat…think you can fool ol' Filch, eh…"
Lily breathes through her nose as his dirty and cracked fingers leave her tits to thread through her hair, clenching the thick strands and guiding her mouth along his prick. The hot, stiff rod pistons in and out of her throat as he begins to facefuck her in earnest. His balls, still wet from her attention, strike her chin with each new thrust. Every few strokes, he holds her all the way impaled for a few moments, her nose burrowing in his graying pubic hair, then jackhammers a few frantic, shallow pumps before pulling his cock all the way out and giving her a chance to breathe. She gulps greedily, watching the dripping strings of saliva connecting her lips to Filch's cock droop between them, making a mess. He lets loose a gutted, pleased sound, rubbing his cockhead over and around her lips, before plunging back in once more, and the delicious process begins again.
Choke. Plow. Hold. Release. More filthy words and accusations and dirty truths.
Again and again and again.
There are few things Lily loves more than a rough, messy blowjob. She sucks and bobs and lets herself be used as her pussy pulses greedily in delight.
Who thought she'd find this compromise so mutually beneficial?
She loses track of how long the caretaker goes—it's frankly impressive, and Lily is burning and needy and fairly on the brink of orgasm herself by the time Filch begins making choking, desperate sounds. His rhythm grows increasingly jerky until it slows altogether. He pulls his cock from her throat one last time, but still keeps a firm grip on her hair with one hand. His other flies frantically up and down his glistening cock. He holds her face close, his craggily features scrunching up.
"Play with your tits and open your mouth," he demands, lips curling into a sharp smile, the yellowed teeth flashing. Lily complies immediately. Her fingers plump and pinch at her tits, her face arches upward, and she holds her tongue out, waiting for her reward.
It comes quickly and fiercely—with a muffled shout, Filch cums hard. Ropes of milky white spurt and dribble from his cockhead, and Lily readily catches it all in her mouth. It fills and coats her tongue and lips, and she laps it up greedily.
"Yes, that's it. Drink up, whore," Filch says, pumping out the last of it. He wipes his wilting cock against her lips, and she presents him with the load he's just dropped on her tongue before finally swallowing it down. The cum is bitter and thick and delicious. She licks at her lips, hoping for more, then at Filch's cock, just to give it an extra shine.
Finished, the caretaker fairly collapses into his desk chair, and Mrs. Norris lets out a satisfied purr from her perch, too.
Lily rises to her feet, quickly tucking her tits back into her shirt and buttoning up.
"Thank you so much for speaking with me, Mr. Filch," she says, straightening herself out, wiping her chin. "I'm so glad we could reach a compromise."
The caretaker cackles humourlessly, and gives a silent wave of exhausted acknowledgement.
Smiling, Lily turns and exits the tiny office.
She can't wait to let James know he's off the hook.