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ed warren x reader ✦ 3,816 words ✦ 18+
WARNINGS: 18+, smut, dirty talk, flirting, oral sex, rough oral sex, come swallowing, face fucking
NOTES:This is based on an ask I got from @imobsessedwithslipknot - I hope you like the smutty Ed Warren fic! There’s not enough out there. It's a bit shorter than normal, I know...But I figured I should also try different things and not stress so much to reinvent the wheel. Like with every story I write, I feel like I need to make it more 'spectacular' than the one before. So: Here's to trying to not do that anymore.
SUMMARY: Your first Christmas as Ed Warren’s wife starts quietly. Just the two of you, a glowing tree, and him waiting on the couch in nothing but a white shirt and a smug little smile. You’re confused about the early present. He’s more interested in unwrapping you.
OR: Ed surprises you with a different kind of present .
✦ masterlist ✦ ao3 ✦
You wake up slowly, as though the morning itself is coaxing you back into the world.
At first, there is only warmth. Soft sheets gathered loosely around your body, the faint lingering heat of sleep, and the quiet hush that belongs only to early hours.
Then, slowly, awareness seeps in. A pale gold light presses against your closed eyelids, insistent yet tender.
When you open your eyes, the room is bathed in colour.
Sunrise has spilt itself generously through the curtains, painting the bedroom in hues of amber and rose, the kind that seem almost too vivid to belong to winter. The shadows are long and delicate, stretched thin across the floor and the rumpled bed.
For a moment, you simply lie there before you stretch. It is an instinctive thing, almost unthinking, your body arching slightly as sleep loosens its final hold. Your arm drifts across the mattress beside you, seeking without question the familiar solidity that should be there.
Instead - cold.
Your fingers meet only the faintly chilled sheets, the fabric already losing the memory of his warmth.
You frown, not sharp but rather confused. The absence feels louder than it should, as though the room itself has shifted subtly in his absence.
“Ed?” you murmur, your voice still thick with sleep, barely more than a breath in the quiet.
No answer.
You push yourself upright, the blankets slipping from your shoulders as the morning air greets your skin with a coolness that makes you shiver faintly.
A small smile tugs at your lips despite yourself. He is an early riser - always has been. There is something steady, almost comforting, in that predictability. And yet, this morning, you feel the absence more keenly.
Perhaps because it is Christmas.
The thought settles softly in your mind, bringing with it a quiet warmth that has little to do with the room.
And suddenly, you find yourself craving something simple and immediate. Coffee. And him. The rich, bitter scent curling through the house, of his arms warm and solid around you, grounding in a way nothing else quite manages. It pulls you fully from the remnants of sleep.
You swing your legs over the side of the bed, your feet meeting the cool floor with a small, involuntary intake of breath.
Wrapping a robe loosely around yourself, you cast one last glance at the sunlit bed before you step out into the quiet house.
You step into the hallway.
Fairy lights have been strung along the railing, their glow soft and unwavering, little constellations brought down to earth. They do not flicker, but hum gently with a steady warmth, casting delicate reflections against polished wood and glass.
A few ornaments that you insisted on hanging, despite Ed’s mild amusement, catch the light and scatter it in quiet, prismatic fragments across the walls.
You remember decorating them together.
It had not been a hurried task, nor a particularly efficient one. He had handed you things instead of placing them himself, watching more than working, as though the act mattered less to him than the way you smiled while doing it.
The Christmas tree stands in the middle of the living room.
It may be a bit too large for the space, although neither of you was willing to admit that when you brought it home. It reaches almost to the ceiling, its branches full and unapologetically alive. The deep green is now softened by a careful layer of lights. Not the garish kind, but warm ones - golden, almost candle-like in their glow
They wind through the branches in patient spirals, illuminating the ornaments you had chosen together. Some are delicate glass, catching the firelight and the morning sun alike; others are older, more worn, carrying the quiet weight of years. A few hang slightly crooked, placed with more enthusiasm than precision, and left that way because neither of you had thought it worth correcting.
There is a small wooden angel near the top, slightly off-centre. You had gently argued about before deciding together that its imperfection suited it.
Tinsel, used sparingly, drapes here and there like frost caught mid-fall. And at the very tips of some branches, a dusting of artificial snow clings.
You find yourself smiling.
It is your first Christmas as a married couple.
The fireplace crackles softly to one side, its flames steady and low.
Above the fireplace, the mantle is decorated with a garland of evergreen that stretches across its length, threaded with warm lights. It features small, thoughtful touches: candles, a few ornaments, and a pair of stockings hanging side by side.
Yours and his. They gently brush against each other where they hang.
Outside the window, the world is hushed beneath falling snow.
It drifts steadily, thick enough now to soften the edges of everything outside, turning the world into something quieter, gentler. The glass has begun to fog faintly at the corners, the warmth inside pushing gently against the cold beyond.
And beneath the tree lay presents. Not an overwhelming number, but enough.
Each one wrapped with a kind of deliberate care, paper smoothed neatly, ribbons tied with quiet precision. A few bear small imperfections, creases where the paper had folded awkwardly, corners not quite as sharp as intended, but those only make them feel more real, more yours.
For a moment, you simply stand there, taking it in: the light, the warmth, the quiet evidence of shared effort and shared life.
Ed sits on the couch as though he has been there for some time, not restless, but waiting in that patient, grounded way that seems so entirely his.
The firelight catches him first, tracing warm gold along the edges of his figure before the morning light from the windows finds him too, softening everything it touches.
He is still in his pyjamas.
A plain white shirt, slightly rumpled from sleep, clings just enough to hint at the warmth beneath it - simple, unassuming, and yet somehow unfairly distracting in its simplicity. The sleeves are short, the fabric is worn soft with time, and it deliciously highlights those big arms of his.
His checkered pants sit low and comfortable, as though he had dressed without thinking, more concerned with the moment than appearance.
And his hair is still unruly.
Not styled, not tamed, but left as sleep had made it, falling slightly out of place in a way that feels so quietly intimate it makes your chest tighten, just a little.
For a moment, you simply stand there in the doorway, watching him.
There is a box in his lap.
Wrapped.
Carefully, though not perfectly - one corner folded just slightly off, the ribbon tied with more determination than precision. His hands rest lightly on either side of it, not fidgeting, but not entirely still either, as though he has been aware of your absence and the anticipation of your return in equal measure.
He looks up then.
“Good morning,” you say softly, your voice carrying a warmth now that had been missing moments before.
His face changes. Ed’s eyes soften, something bright and unmistakably fond settling into them, and then he smiles.
Open, warm and immediate. The kind of smile that feels as though it belongs entirely to you in that moment.
“Good morning,” he replies, his voice low, still roughened faintly by sleep.
There is a small pause, just long enough to take you in properly, as though he is making sure you are really there, standing in the doorway with the morning wrapped around you.
Then, softer: “Merry Christmas.”
The words are simple, but they settle into the room with a kind of quiet significance, threading themselves through the light, the fire, the scent of pine and coffee.
His gaze lingers on you for a moment longer, something unspoken passing through it - something warm, something certain - before one hand lifts slightly from the gift in his lap.
An unspoken invitation to come closer.
You hesitate only a second before crossing the room, drawn in by him in a way that feels both natural and inevitable.
The floor is warm beneath your feet here, kissed by the fire, and as you move closer, the details of him sharpen. The faint crease in his shirt, the way his fingers rest against the edge of the box, the quiet steadiness in the way he watches you approach.
You lower yourself onto the couch beside him, close enough that your shoulder brushes his and your gaze drops to the box in his lap.
Your brow furrows slightly.
“…Ed,” you begin, a small note of confusion threading through your voice as you glance back up at him, “isn’t this… a little early for this?”
There’s something almost amused in the way you say it, but it’s genuine too. Habit lingers: Christmas mornings filled with noise, with family, with the slow, shared ritual of waiting until everyone is gathered.
A slow, knowing smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, subtle at first, then deepening just enough to betray that he has been expecting exactly this reaction.
He shifts slightly beside you, turning just enough that his knee brushes yours, his body angling toward you in a way that feels deliberate without being forced.
“Yeah,” he says, voice low, edged with something warm and teasing. “I know how it’s usually done.”
There’s a beat.
His gaze lingers on you - not fleeting, not distracted, but steady, intent, as though he’s choosing his next words carefully… or perhaps enjoying the moment just a little too much.
“But this isn’t usually.”
Your breath catches, just slightly.
He watches it happen. Of course he does.
That smirk shifts into something gentler, though no less dangerous in its own quiet way. His thumb brushes absently along the edge of the ribbon, not looking at it, his attention entirely on you.
“It’s our first Christmas,” he continues, voice dipping just a fraction, “as a married couple.”
The words settle between you, heavier now, more deliberate.
His shoulder presses a little more firmly against yours - not enough to trap, but enough to anchor.
“And,” he adds, tilting his head just slightly, eyes flicking over your face with a softness that contrasts the teasing curve of his mouth, “you’ve been a little… stressed lately.”
There’s something in the way he says it - not accusing, not even questioning but rather observing.
Your lips part, perhaps to protest, perhaps to dismiss it - but he doesn’t quite give you the chance.
His hand shifts, just barely, brushing against yours where it rests between you on the couch. The contact is light, almost accidental in appearance, but it lingers just long enough to be anything but.
“So,” he says, quieter now, his voice carrying that low, familiar warmth that seems to settle somewhere just beneath your skin, “I figured I’d do something about that.”
His eyes meet yours again - steady, unwavering.
And then, with the faintest lift of one brow, the smirk returning in full.
“What?” he murmurs, voice soft, teasing, unmistakably flirty now. “You gonna tell me I’m not allowed to spoil my wife a little?”
His blue eyes sparkle with mischief, that bright smile widening just a touch as he nods toward the box. “Go on, open it. It’s all for you.”
He doesn’t shift an inch, keeping the box firmly in place over his crotch, his body heat radiating through the thin material.
Curiosity piqued, you reach for the ribbon, your fingers brushing the edge of the box.
You untie the bow and lift the lid, a soft gasp escapes your lips.
There, nestled in the tissue paper like the most forbidden present, is Ed’s cock - thick and hard, poking up through a cleverly cut hole in the bottom of the box.
The shaft stands proud, veined and flushed a deep pink, curving slightly toward you with a glossy bead of precum glistening at the swollen tip.
It’s girthy, easily filling the space, the smooth skin stretched taut over the rigid length, his heavy balls tucked just below, peeking out from the opening in his pants that he’s obviously freed himself from.
Ed chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrates through his chest. “Surprise, sweetheart. Merry fucking Christmas. See how hard I got just thinking about you opening this? Your present’s been waiting all morning for you...”
He shifts his hips ever so slightly, making his cock twitch in the box, the tip brushing the edge of the tissue paper.
“Go ahead, touch it. Wrap your hand around my fat dick and feel how much I want to pound into you right here on the floor, make you forget every damn worry. Or maybe slide your mouth down on it - suck me off like the naughty wife you are while I watch those pretty lips stretch around me.”
His voice drops lower, laced with hunger, as his free hand guides yours toward the box. “What do you say? Ready to unwrap the rest of your gift?”
Your eyes widen in genuine surprise, a bubble of laughter escaping your lips before you can stop it - nervous, delighted, and utterly turned on all at once.
The audacity of it hits you like a warm wave, your cheeks flushing hot as you stare at Ed's exposed cock in that ridiculous, genius gift box.
It's so him: playful yet filthy, knowing exactly how to catch you off guard and ignite that spark low in your belly. Your heart races, a mix of shock and arousal pooling between your thighs, making your pussy clench with anticipation.
“Ed! Oh my god,” you manage between giggles, shaking your head in disbelief, but your gaze lingers on the thick cock, already imagining how it would feel sliding inside you.
Ed’s bright smile turns downright predatory, his blue eyes darkening with lust as he watches your reaction.
“Yeah, laugh it up, baby. But I see that look - you're soaked already, aren't you? Thinking about how my big cock’s gonna fill you up, make you scream my name while I fuck you senseless under this tree before our families arrive.” His voice is a gravelly whisper, dripping with promise, as he reaches for your hand, his strong fingers wrapping around yours with gentle insistence.
He guides your palm downward, pressing it against the warm, velvety skin of his shaft. The heat of him sears into you, the rigid girth throbbing under your touch, veins pulsing as you instinctively curl your fingers around it. His dick is heavy, the precum slicking your skin as you give it a tentative stroke.
A low groan rumbles from his chest, his hips bucking slightly into your grip.
“Fuck, that's it...stroke my cock like you own it, wife. Feel how hard you make me? Been dreaming of your tight mouth wrapped around the head, sucking me deep while I tangle my fingers in your hair and thrust down your throat.”
His words send shivers racing down your spine, your laughter fading into a soft moan as arousal floods your cunt, your nipples hardening against the fabric of your robe.
You pump him slowly, savouring the way he twitches in your hand, the salty scent of his arousal filling the air, making your mouth water. Every glide of your fist heightens the ache between your legs, your clit throbbing with need.
After a few more teasing strokes, Ed’s breath hitches, his free hand abandoning your arm to grip the edge of the box.
“Enough playing, sweetheart. Time to taste your present.” With a swift motion, he lifts the lid and shoves the box aside, his cock springing free.
The sight makes your pulse pound, desire overriding any lingering surprise as you lean forward without hesitation, your robe slipping open slightly.
Your lips part, tongue flicking out to lap at the tip, over the salty bead there before you take him in - stretching your mouth around the swollen head, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him deeper.
He fills you so perfectly, the musky flavour exploding on your tongue, and you hum in pleasure, your hand still working the base while waves of heat build inside you, eager for whatever comes next.
Ed’s fingers thread through your hair, gripping firmly at the roots as he tilts your head back just enough to meet your eyes, his gaze smouldering with that mix of affection and raw hunger.
“Look at you, baby - already so eager for my cock down your throat. But let’s see how much you can handle this morning. Tap my thigh if it's too much, okay? I want you to take it all for me.” His voice is a husky command, laced with teasing challenge, sending a fresh rush of heat through your veins.
You're nodding before you even realise it, the thrill of his control making your pussy throb, slickness gathering as you relax your jaw wider around him.
He eases in shallow at first, his hips rocking gently to slide just the head past your lips, letting you swirl your tongue along the underside while he watches your every reaction.
The velvety texture drags against your mouth, his precum mixing with your saliva, and you moan softly, the vibration drawing a sharp hiss from him.
His free hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing your stretched lips, the tenderness contrasting the building intensity as he pushes a little further, testing your limits with each incremental thrust.
Your body responds instinctively, arousal coiling tighter in your core, as you hollow your cheeks and take him deeper.
The stretch starts to build, his thickness pressing against the back of your throat, but you’re so into it - the way he fills you, the power dynamic that makes your clit ache for friction.
He talks more now, words tumbling out in a gravelly stream as his grip tightens. “Fuck, your mouth’s so hot and wet, swallowing me like a good little wife. Deeper now - relax that throat for me, let me bury my dick all the way in.”
His hips snap forward with more force, driving past your gag reflex, the intrusion deeper than he's ever gone before.
The sensation borders on uncomfortable, your throat constricting around the invading girth, muscles fluttering as you fight to breathe through your nose.
Saliva pools and spills from the corners of your mouth, dripping down your chin in messy strings, but the discomfort only heightens the pleasure surging through you - waves of endorphins mixing with the burn, making your thighs clench together for relief.
You gag wetly on the next push, the filthy, choking sound echoing in the quiet living room, but he doesn't stop, holding you steady as he grinds in further.
“Gag on it, sweetheart. I love hearing those slutty noises. You’re taking me so well, throat, squeezing my cock like it’s begging for my load.”
Tears prick at your eyes from the effort, but you’re lost in the intensity, drool slicking his shaft and balls as you manage to take every last inch, your nose brushing his trimmed pubic hair.
The fullness is overwhelming, your body trembling with the effort to accommodate him, yet the ache in your pussy intensifies, turning the almost-pain into pure, electric need. He fucks your mouth relentlessly now, pace quickening as wet slurps and gurgles fill the air, his balls slapping lightly against your chin with each deep plunge.
“All of me, baby…Fuck, you’re perfect. Gonna cum so hard watching you choke on my dick like this.”
His rhythm falters, breaths coming in ragged pants, and you feel him swell impossibly thicker against your tongue.
With a guttural groan, he pulls back just enough before cumming, half his length still buried in your mouth. Hot spurts flood your tongue first, salty and thick, coating your throat as you swallow what you can, the taste exploding with his essence.
He yanks free on the next pulse, ropes of cum painting your lips, cheeks, and chin in sticky white streaks, some landing warm on your closed eyelids.
You gasp for air, chest heaving, the mess dripping down your neck as aftershocks ripple through you, your own arousal at a fever pitch, body buzzing from the raw claim he’s just made.
Ed’s chest heaves as he stares down at you, his blue eyes darkening with a potent mix of satisfaction and lingering desire.
Cum glistens on your skin, warm trails cooling against your flushed cheeks and neck, while the remnants in your mouth pool thickly on your tongue.
He doesn’t let the moment fade; instead, he cups your jaw gently, thumb swiping across your lower lip to gather a stray rope of his release.
“Open up for me, love. Don’t waste a drop. Show me how much you love tasting me.” His voice dips low, coaxing rather than commanding, but the heat in it stirs the fire still smoldering in your belly.
You part your lips obediently, letting him slide his thumb inside, pressing the salty essence against your tongue.
Obediently, you close around the digit, sucking softly to draw it clean.
He watches intently, a soft groan escaping him when you swallow, the motion visible in the bob of your throat. “Good girl,” he murmurs, repeating the gesture with his fingers, scooping more from your chin and feeding it to you bit by bit.
Each swallow sends a shiver through you, your body humming with submission, pussy clenching emptily as you take every salty bit he offers, eyes locked on his until the mess is mostly gone, leaving only faint shiny streaks.
Once he’s satisfied, Ed pulls you up into his lap, his strong arms wrapping around your waist to tuck you against his broad chest.
The white shirt clings to his skin, damp from the intensity, and you can feel the steady thump of his heart under your palm as you rest your head on his shoulder.
He grabs a nearby throw blanket from the couch, draping it over both of you, his hands roaming soothingly - stroking your back, brushing tangled hair from your face, wiping the last traces from your eyelids with the soft fabric.
“You were incredible, baby. So brave taking all of me like that. Merry Christmas. Couldn't think of a better way to start our day.” His words are tender, laced with that bright smile you adore, as he presses a kiss to your forehead, then your temple, nuzzling into your hair with affectionate hums.
But even in the afterglow, one hand drifts lower, palming your ass through the thin robe, squeezing the flesh as he shifts you closer, his semi-hard cock pressing insistently against your thigh.
"Fuck, you’re so wet for me, aren’t you? I can feel it soaking through.” He nips at your earlobe, breath hot as his fingers tease the hem of your robe, dipping just inside to trace the slick folds of your pussy.
The gentleness mixes with renewed hunger, promising he’s far from done spoiling you this morning.
Can someone write a smut Patrick Wilson fanfic where he sees Y/n masturbating and decides to help her. Since his hand is bigger and he can do much better! 🫣
With height difference, age difference, kissing, hickeys, slapping, pussy slapping, fingering, M+F masturbation, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, M+F oral sex, deep throat, face fucking, hard sex, hair pulling, cum swallowing, degradation, praise, choking, whatever you want and much more! Pleaseee 🙏🙏❤️❤️🥰🥰😍😍🛐🛐✨✨
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summary : You have been frequently bothered by a bride ghosts since you were little. But as you grow older you feel increasingly disturbed and you ask for help from Ed and Lorraine Warren, a demonologist, to help you escape the curse.
Instead of focusing on the exorcism case this time, you are caught up in a hot affair with Ed Warren.
After all, who would refuse his cock?
warning : full of smut, cheating, masturbation, virginity loss, unprotected sex, p in v sex, breeding kink, rough sex.
for another patrick wilson ff ➡️ masterlist
You snuck into Massachusetts Western University, Wakefield. You’re obviously not a student there, you graduated from uni last year. You knew that Ed and Lorraine Warren would be lecture in there so you disguised yourself as a student.
You’re wearing a white shirt matching with a black short skirt that is above the knee. Your beautiful legs are covered with sheer stockings.
Because of your appearance, many men stare at you stunned, even women seem to steal glances at you. You’re really beautiful and different from others. Your outfit is certainly the opposite in the 70s, but it’s not because of your outfit that makes many people admire you, but because you have a beautiful face with hair that looks very soft.
You have responded politely several times when several people tried to get to know you, and they were surprised why they had never seen you here.
Even though you attract attention there, you remain focused on your purpose here. The thought that told you to focus appeared when you saw the bride's figure appear again at the end of the room while Ed and Lorraine Warren were teaching in front. The bride looks at you with red eyes, and blood comes out of her eyes.
The blood dripped on the floor and when Lorraine walked backwards and stepped on the blood, in an instant the figure disappeared.
Lorraine gasped. She froze in place, looking at the floor which now had no blood at all- then she saw you.
Ed grabbed his wife’s shoulder, and he asked, “what is it, hon?”
“Nothing,” said Lorraine briefly, her eyes still looking straight at you. Ed followed his wife’s gaze, and he’s looking at you now.
“We have to,” Lorraine stopped because she was still trying to digest everything, “we have to continue this.”
Ed nodded, he then turned the video back on, “A French-Canadian farmer with no more than a third-grade education yet after he was possessed, spoke some of the best Latin I’d ever heard.”
You looked at the screen seriously. Suddenly you felt goosebumps, but when you looked to the side of the screen, you saw Ed caught staring at you, then Ed immediately continued talking, “S-sometimes backwards.” said Ed, who surprisingly, he’s stammer.
“He’d been molested by his father, who had also tortured him repeatedly.” Ed said still unable to take his eyes off you.
You realize this. It seems like you stole Ed Warren’s attention since Lorraine stared at you intently- she knew and could feel that you were being followed by the ghost. But her husband gaze at you... seemed different.
To ensure that, you pulled up your short skirt and crossed your legs. Your thighs are clearly visible in the sheer stockings which makes Ed even more unable to focus.
“A dark spirit…” Ed’s hungry gaze at your thighs, made his wife, Lorraine, suspect her husband’s strange behavior. Ed nervously continued, “A dark spirit made its home in- in th- this man.”
“Now, if you look into his eyes, you can see him tearing blood.” said Lorraine. You watched carefully and felt increasingly goosebumps all over your body.
Again, Ed couldn’t stop looking at you. You know that just by looking, you know this is wrong. He’s a married man and maybe they already have children. But you can’t deny that you like being seen by Ed, you feel like you want to tease him again.
“And like that…” Lorraine said while glaring at her husband and you alternately, “an upside-down cross started to appear from within his body.”
“All right, Drew, you can hit the lights.”
Suddenly everyone raised their hands to ask questions. You are surprised by this, not because of the enthusiasm of the class so that everyone wants to ask questions except you, but you are surprised because you feel like you didn’t get anything from their explanation.
Because Ed keeps looking at you and you in your seat keep teasing him. It seems like no one noticed, but if anyone in the room noticed besides his wife, they couldn’t blame you. He’s hot.
You can feel Ed and Lorraine’s relationship immediately strain. After answering questions from various students, they immediately left the room at a fast pace. You immediately follow their steps towards their car.
“Hey,” you said walking over to them as they were about to get into their car, “hey, I need your help.”
Before Ed could reply to your words, you quickly said, “I’m not a student here. I’m not even from this city, I came all the way here because I got news that you were lecture here, and...”
“That ghost bride….” said Lorraine still looking straight at you, “she follows you all the time, wherever you are.”
“And the worst part is…” you lowered your head, “she was the one who made my best friend die. I was driving a car, and I saw her figure right in front of my car, and I was fooled, I...”
“I’m sorry about what happened…” Ed said looking at you guiltily, then he looked at his wife who seemed to be trying to digest something, “I’m sure we can help…”
Lorraine turned to her husband. Don’t know why he really wants to help you even though they were very busy handling other cases that they should have investigated right away. Of course Lorraine wants to help you, but she feels bad instincts between her husband and you.
She knows that you have seduced her husband and his husband can’t take his eyes off you, but she had seen everything through her vision, about a bride ghost who always haunts and disturbs you.
“Of course we can help you,” said Lorraine smiling at you, gesturing for you to get into their car.
When you got into the car, Lorraine’s smile faded as she looked at her husband. She knew that something like this would happen, they had been together for a very long time, she knew that one day her husband would give another woman his gaze as if he wanted to strip her naked. But she didn’t think she could bear this much pain, however she had to focus on her purpose this time to helping you.
“How long have you been bothered by that ghost?”Lorraine asked when you arrived at her house.
You thought that the house will contain terrible things, but it turns out that all of them have been stored in one room. Her house is the same as most houses, classic interior design, and various paintings... Lorraine said that her husband likes pictures.
“When I was little,” you said, then you looked at Ed for a moment. And you realize that you look at him too often, “I don't remember exactly, but I could see her when I was 6 years old.”
“I felt very scared. especially when I no longer live with my parents, I...” you give up. You can’t control yourself from looking at Ed. His proportional body makes you want to be fucked by him.
“I'm not from this country. I studied in America and I have graduated from university and now I live here.” You could feel Ed constantly looking at you.
You bit your bottom lip, “I was alone, in the past if I was disturbed every night I could ask my parents to look after me. I know it was the actions of a spoiled child, but now everything is different, I endure all this alone, and I’m afraid...”
“You are not alone, we are here to help you...” said Lorraine holding your hand gently, “can you explain to us what you experienced…apart from your friend’s accident?”
You think for a moment, then you say quietly, “she often comes into my dreams, I don’t know, she always says something but I never remember it. And the weird thing is, I feel like I dreamed of her only for a moment, maybe 2 minutes ago, and when I woke up, it was already morning.”
“Ed...” said Lorraine softly.
He nodded his head, “yes hon?”
“Can you be here accompany her? I will be right back.” said Lorraine as she stood up. And then she whispered something to her husband, making you feel strange. She turned to you and smiled faintly then left the place.
“Where did she go?” you asked as Ed now sat down next to you.
“She’s just… want to do her thing.”
“No, you always work together. I don’t believe that.” you said feeling suspicious.
“And you believe what?” said Ed, “After you showed me your thighs and bit your sexy lips while me and my wife were lecture in there.”
Ed’s soft fingers touched your pink lips, his thumb combing every corner of your lips while his other fingers held your chin.
You let go of Ed’s hand with a slow movement. “No, Ed, we can’t.” You said trying to avoid eye contact from him.
Ed grinned, “Why not?” he tucked your hair behind your ear, holding your chin, “look at me.”
You’re looking at each other now. You can’t help yourself when you see Ed in his formal suit and tie... his body is very proportional with his very handsome face. You only looked into his eyes for 5 seconds and you immediately kissed Ed’s lips hungrily.
Ed kissed you back, your fingers undoing Ed’s tie. He kissed your neck aggressively, then with quick movements he placed your entire body lying on the sofa. He took off his suit and shirt, as did you at the same time taking off your shirt.
When you were about to take off your skirt-- Ed, who was already topless, bit your neck and then said in a deep, hoarse voice in your ear, “leave the skirt in place. as are those filthy stockings...”
Ed ripped your sheer stocking right at your cunt. He moved your panties to look at your pussy. You could feel Ed’s fingers playing on your clit. His thumb rubs your clit with lazy movements while his other 2 fingers into your cunt.
You groaned in pain, Ed said, “damn, 2 fingers won't really go inside. You’re so tight, honey.”
“You're a virgin huh?” said Ed, who was still playing with your clitoris and with his fingers, you could only nod weakly.
“What a surprise.” You felt his fingers force their way into your vagina making you scream in pain.
You can hear Lorraine calling her husband because he heard your moan, “don't worry hon, this is part of the exorcism I’m doing. I can do it myself.” Ed lied so stupidly.
“Ed...please...” you let out a weak moan, you looked at the door of the house which was still wide open, “Ed... shouldn't we close the door first?”
His fingers slipped from your cunt. He started to unbutton his trousers. You can see his cock which is so big and hard in front of you.
You can feel his cock starting to enter the walls of your cunt which are already very wet. He kisses your thighs which are still covered in stockings then enters his entire penis into you. Makes you groan in pain and shed tears.
You felt sore because Ed’s big cock was inside you, but you really liked it.
“Ed, we have to close the door...”
Ed now put your legs over his shoulders and fucked you very aggressively, he answered, “That's not necessary. If someone else passes by this house, at least they can see what a slut you are.” He squeezed out the last word by thrusting his cock deeper into you.
You were drunk with the pleasure he was giving you. You accidentally said a sentence you didn’t want to say.
“Ed Warren.....a sexy demonologist that I just met. A married man that would exorcise all the demons in my body. Please have my baby, put it all in me…. I want you..” you moaned as he insert his cock into your wet cunt with fast movements.
Ed looked at you with pity, “I really wanted to see you have my baby the first time I saw you with those thighs that were so tempting... obey me and be a good slut.”
You nod and you feel increasingly excited and want to climax when Ed kisses both of your tits and licks your nipples while still inserting his large penis inside you.
“Ed... I want to cum.” you moaned when Ed bit your nipple.
He then kissed your collarbones then you could feel his rough breath on your neck now. He kissed your neck then you felt something flowing inside you.
He releases a lot of sperm inside you. With nothing left. His big cock was still inside you when Lorraine caught you both in the living room.
“So, can we start now?” She asked with a straight face, “of course you can do an exorcism faster than this, right, Ed?”
Ed chuckled, he still hadn't removed his cock from inside you, “yeah hon, give us some time to get dressed again.”
Lorraine left the room still with a straight face. But you know that she really jealous and hurt because she obviously heard all your moans and can imagine how great your sex was. But she can’t do anything for that because she wants her husband to be happy.
You kissed his lips as he pulled his cock out of your pussy, “that was amazing.” you said then he smiled happily.
Your still naked bodies stood up and Ed hugged you from behind, “ready for round two?”
