Author's note: After a story about good and friendly ghosts, to my wonderful, most grateful and forgiving audience that I never did enough to deserve, I gladly give one more tale about mischievous ones. Not exactly evil, just, you know. Thirsty. But, hopefully, still hot. Kinda slow for sure, but what do you expect from a story having "edge fest" in its title ;) Obviously, the story is set in a different universe from Sympathetic Spirits, and obviously, as with any work of escapist fiction, everything, from characters to events to laws of physics and biology, is made up. After all, fantasizing about something limited by our laws of reality is boring.
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"Thank you, sir." The man sobbed and dried his red eyes with a handkerchief.
"I am no sir; my ancestors were serfs. I need the details, and I need to write them down; this is important for the work. If you're embarrassed to speak in the presence of your wife, we can go outside or to another room."
"No... I... We don't keep secrets from each other, I have already told her everything. Well, the basics. So... Where do I start?"
"From the beginning."
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NIGHT ONE.
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Marriage of the couple was in no way bad or perfect, but, being passionate lovers in their youth, they both felt that they were losing the spark. Family budget, mortgage, children, ageing parents not exactly approving of their union - the usual set of simple but numerous burdens that slowly erode the mood for anything frisky. Still in love, still best friends; just really busy and tired. A typical story. And as typically happens, one particular evening, after spending the day with the woman he loves but barely touching her even once, a non-specific and not even quite pleasant wet dream happened to the husband. Except, despite being sure that he must have poured a generous load out, it seemed - and felt - as if someone caught it and took for themselves. He admitted that he had a sensation as if someone was touching him, and as he stood up, there was no mess, let alone anyone on or near his genitals. He seemed to remember that he saw two shining dots of mismatched color flickering on a wall and vanishing.
The next day, his wife went to her parents to visit and maybe leave the kids with them for a couple days, but fell slightly ill and stayed the night at their place. Husband promised to clean the house and cook something to her arrival, anticipating finally having little private time with her. He was done way sooner than he expected, watched some TV, and took a shower.
As he was rinsing, he heard a silent angelic laughter right next to him. He turned around, and saw a youthful pale face framed by wavy, floating, wispy dark red hair that seemed slightly blurred. The beautiful stranger moved her face to his and planted an innocent kiss on his cheek, which he definitely felt. As he blinked to take a better look, she was not there. Being a reasonable person, he jumped out of the bathtub, locked all the doors and walked around the entire house, switching the lights on everywhere, to see if there was an intruder. The house had a mostly linear layout, and it was definitely empty.
Way worse than his worries about intrusion was that he felt strange obsession with his shower vision, unable to stop thinking who she was, why did she kiss him, and will he see her again. Considering everything done for tomorrow, he switched the lights off and lay on the bed, still completely naked. Just as he closed his eyes, he heard someone breathing next to him. Looking up, he saw five things out of ordinary. The girl from his shower vision was there. She was floating. She was glowing. She was slightly translucent, and absolutely gorgeous. She leaned in for a small peck on the lips, and he had no wish to resist. Her eyes, red without pupils, pierced him; her floating dark copper hair was brushing against him, but it neither got tangled, not tickled; her skin's opalescent lustre was of all the colors of a moonstone. Her lips, pink, soft, warm, left the taste of sweetest honey on his, and he could not hold himself, as she leaned to press them to his again, from giving them a slight lick. She let out a happy "hmm?", lay on top of him, and covered his chin and neck in kisses. He felt the otherworldly warmth of her firm breasts against his chest.
"Who are you?" he tried to ask, but she just brushed her finger over his lips and brought herself closer to his face. "Do you have a name?" She touched the tip of his nose with hers. "I'm married. We can't..." She stroked his cheek, covered his eyes with her palm, and gave him a deep, long, passionate, sloppy kiss, filling his mouth and nostrils with her intoxicating sweet scent. His inhibitions cracked, and his erection rose. "No," he hesitated and tried to push her away. "We can't. You have to leave..."
His hand passed through dissolving misty cloud right above him, the feeling of her weight and warmth vanishing instantly.
For several minutes, he tried to calm his racing heart and think. Either he was already asleep, having visions, or... what? Going insane? Actually being followed by a cuddly apparition? The man went to the kitchen and drank half a glass of ice-cold water in three gulps. Everything felt real to him, including the otherworldly nectarous taste of his mysterious visitor still in his mouth. He returned, sat on the bed, and felt himself being hugged. The copper-haired nymph phased into reality on his lap, holding him by the neck, petite, thin, looking at him with joyful, pleading, hyper-expressive eyes.
"Could you please, please let me stay with you?" she begged, emphasizing "you", and kissed his eyebrow. "I really, really want to stay. Need. You don't like me? Don't want me to stay?" She took his hand and put it just above her breast. She was somehow soft and firm at the same time, everywhere. He tried to look away from her hypnotizing red fluorescent eyes, and could not. The reasonable piece of his mind tried to protest: "Your dad told you a hundred times that a cute girl making you touch her means either disease, pregnancy, scam, or all three; he also didn't say anything about ethereal apparitions being an exception."
"You... can talk?" he asked.
"Of course. Lie down with me, please! Just for a little!" She looked and sounded excited, as if he already agreed to her suggestion. He complied. She floated in the air above him, and as he was on the bed, landed right next to him, with her hand on his chest.
"Who are you? What are you? What are you doing here?"
"I am a friend. I came to you! I felt you. I need your help. I need to... feel you more. Just for this night! It is never bad to help someone, is it? How can it be? Look at me. Look at me!"
He wanted to point out the obvious, that he already was looking at her, but it most clearly was not what she meant. She stroked herself from chin to bellybutton, his eyes following the movement. She looked so small, vulnerable, beautiful, and happy; how long has it been since someone was this happy to be with him in bed, naked?
