‘So I began looking elsewhere for somewhere. Then I came home from work and there was a letter waiting for me. ‘I went off to my room before Mothe... put out tea. The letter was to the point. I had to be at the house at a time and date. And I would be interviewed for suitability.So I was as nervous as hell. I found the house. It was absolutely massive. I rang the bell and a lady of about mid 40`s answered the door. I explained who I was and shown to a sort of office/ study. The Lady who answered. I enjoyed making you cum as well.Me: Yeah, you were giving me a hand-job on the way to the mall and also while returning in the car.Sheela: Yeah, I was wondering how you were riding with that big boner of yours.Me: So you were trying to help me with the hand gear?Sheela: Exactly, and I did.Me: You surely, did.We both laughed.Sheela: Hahaha, I made you cum 4 times that day. (She said proudly).Me: Yeah, I did cum so much just to make you happy.Sheela: Oho.. is it? I remember you holding my head. The solution for both problems is for someone to take this DNA virus based on Jim's DNA and take his place. I feel responsible so I'll take it."Jim gasped, she was offering to give up her body in the uncertain hope that she could reverse the process. "It wasn't your fault, Anne." he said. He saw a small stab of anguish cross her face, she was talking like she had done it to him, instead of him falling on the vial. "Anyway, we end up with the same problem. The police would start to investigate. So when Rachel had offered me the obit beat, I felt I had little choice.It turned out, however, that I was pretty damn good at it. One of my first obits was about a guy who had rescued a little girl who had fallen down a well and spent the rest of his life trying to cope with the fame of that one incident: "Arthur Compton, whose moment in the sun started in total darkness before it withered in the harsh klieg lights of modern media coverage, died last week." My prose became a little less purple.