The Grim Reaper isn’t a man. In fact, she’s quite becoming.
Naturally, no one dares to get into her skirt, but this doesn’t matter to her. The thrusts and twists of human courtship hold no interest. She has other concerns. Keeping her list of names updated. Restocking her biros. Ensuring her blade stays keen and shiny.
Nowhere does the ‘cut of her jib’ factor in.
Still, even the Reaper can possess a mortal weakness. Yes, even she can nurse a fondness for white, lace stockings. But she refuses to wear them due to her messy job.
Stockings rather become her.