"M-Mustn't... Can't... Oooh..." The ghost moans as the halfling takes her for his pleasure, cock splitting pussy walls that have become tangible for the first time in so long, and feel as real as any of the women Zendak has taken for his own in the past. Her voice has lost its ghostly echo almost entirely by this point, and if not for the pallid hue of her skin, any observer might see two mortals fucking in the tomb, rather than a living male and a spectral slut. It's not true life, Zendak knows - to actually resurrect someone permanently would take a sorcerer of true skill - and she'll go ethereal again once he's done with her, but for now her ghostly body has made itself corporeal for his pleasure, the lustful mockery of the physical form she might take to attack a mortal. "Ooh, please..." She moans, ectoplasm replaced by real, human womanly dew, dripping down her thighs. "Oh, please give me more..." She cries in the voice of a human woman, high and strained with delight.