The fiery rose

That was that.
A month or two later I got something in the mail. It was a check. This woman was loaded. I tried to send the package back stating that I felt it was wrong to take anything for doing what I thought I had to do to ensure the safety of another person.
She insisted.
Many years have gone by since then. Renee continued to write me every month until she graduated. For a year or two, nothing. I haven’t moved. I invested the money I was forcibly given wisely into some high-yield savings and CDs. It worked out well. However, I still work.

I work in a low-rent office for a security firm. It was tedious, but it kept me out of trouble for the last fifteen years.
After work on my Friday, I decided,” What the hell?” and went to the closest Sex Shop I could find.
I’ve been to one often, but this time was different. I was tired of masturbating with just my fucking hand.
Years of shooting my cum with lubricated hands came to an end! I was damned determined!
“Can I help you sir?”
I snapped out of it and noticed I was already in the store looking at a variable wall of pocket-pussies and prostate simulators.
Many had nice labels on them and the cheap ones..well…looked cheap.