My new friend

She held it up for me to see—long, thick, and a deep purple that caught the light. My new friend. She could not skip a single day without it. The moment it slid into place, that low, steady buzz started up. She shifted her hips, found the right angle, and let out a soft sound of relief, the kind that comes from knowing exactly what your body needs. Every stroke was measured, every breath a little shorter than the last. She moved with purpose, her focus narrowing until there was nothing but the toy and the heat building between her thighs. The rhythm was steady, then faster, chasing the inevitable end she had learned to summon on demand.