The cool air moved as she crept into the room. Inky darkness precluded the ability to see, but the vision of her tousled crimson locks was vivid in his mind’s eye—a sight that took up residence there years ago when she first touched him.

She glided noiselessly until she reached his bed. What would she demand this time?

Suddenly, he felt her breath on his neck as she whispered, “I need you inside me.”

His body quivered as nimble fingers wrapped themselves around his rigid manhood. Resistance was futile— their joining inevitable. The manifestation of her curvy, female appearance beckoned his steely rod into her otherworldly cunt. Her wet walls clamped down on him and formed an unyielding bond.

Her flesh became more corporeal as her climax drew near. He could almost make out her facial features but became far too distracted by the incredible sensations he was experiencing, and his eyes fluttered closed.

He’d never tasted such intense pleasure as they rocked, locked in a torrid rhythm, until she milked him dry while her orgasm shattered the illusion of her, returning her to a mere apparition. She left without a word, sad but sated for another year.

Moments later, when his wife decided to turn in for the night, she saw him sprawled out on the bed, naked and looking a little wasted.

“Did you fuck that redheaded ghost again?” she asked crossly upon discovering him covered in cum. She’d nearly forgotten the ethereal, supernatural copulation that the slutty spirit insisted upon yearly on All Hallows Eve.

He grinned sheepishly, unwilling to apologize for an act over which he had no control.

His wife shook her head. “Well, could you at least ask her to bring a friend next time?”

He laughed and said, “Perhaps we can ask her to pleasure your pussy with her wicked, poltergeist tongue before she commandeers my cock next year.”

She shrugged. “That would work.”

He frowned, taken aback by her response. “I was just kidding. Since when are you attracted to women?”

It was her turn to laugh. “Oh, you can fuck a ghost, and that’s perfectly normal, but I show interest in her licking my labia, and that’s odd?”

“You have a point, dear.”

“I have two rather nice points, but you’ll need to wipe up that ghostly, ectoplasmic goo before I let you maul them.”

“Or…you could clean me up,” he suggested wistfully.

Outside the window, a flicker of red light danced with glee. It was her annual onus to make sure this couple reconnected sexually. She knew she had succeeded when she watched the wife lasciviously lick her husband completely clean.

She vanished and headed off to the next stop on her schedule, already thinking about next year and the first taste of pussy that awaited her.