I work in the oldest profession in the world. It’s hard work, but necessary.
My clientele is very diverse. If you were to walk down the street and guess who my clients were the answer would surprise you.
Sometimes my clients are lonely old people that often haven’t had company in quite some time. I gently caress them and get to business, they seldom want to enjoy only a conversation.
Other times the clients are young and beautiful, these are often a hassle. Many of them are deniers and often blame themselves for even requiring my services. They see it as a failure. They are always content when I leave them however.
As I said, it’s hard work, but necessary.
But I do have some personal vices, sometimes when I walk down the street I see someone I really like. I usually follow them home and offer them my services, some get angry, telling me to be gone once they realize I’ve followed them. It doesn’t matter, sooner or later they’ll come around to the idea and request my services. Others realize that I am the one they’ve been searching for and gladly accept my services. I like those people.
My work is hard, but necessary.
My name is Death and my profession is the oldest in the world.
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Credits to: AmateurSanta
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