I could hear her moaning softly in the other room, and I couldn't help but feel a little jealous. I was her first after all. That was a long time ago now, but I was still completely dedicated to her, and I was always available if she needed me - a fact that she knew full well and took advantage of from time to time. We did live in the same house, and I think that she found something comforting in the old familiarity.

Still, I could hear those sounds clearly, and I couldn't help but feel just a little jealous of what was happening on the other side of the door.

The sounds died away. I was a little surprised since I didn't hear that particular sound that she makes from her throat when she climaxes. Then the door opened.

There she was, standing in front of me, naked and beautiful.

How I loved that shape. I scanned her small frame from her feet, up her legs to her soft, inviting thighs. From here I could see the gentle flair of her hips leading to the recesses of her waist, and then up again to where her little pink nipples were standing alert on her soft, round breasts. Her somewhat tousled light brown hair fell down in locks just over her shoulders and framed her pretty, delicate face.

I could see that her cheeks were flushed, and her hazel eyes were wide with a hungry look. I relished in the familiar, yet always exciting sight of her form.

She looked at me with an impish grin and said, "This just isn't getting the job done."

I dropped my gaze down to her right hand and saw the Competition. She was gripping a forest green, silicone penis, still damp and shining slightly in the light from her bedroom, where she promptly led me.

She sat down on her bed, leaning back onto some pillows that were propped up against the headboard. Once she was settled in, she spread her legs and picked up the Competition. She drew its head over the full length of her vulva three times before spreading her lips and plunging it a couple of inches into her folds.

Her sharp exhale caught in her throat making a strangled little moan. She drew the Competition out half way before thrusting it in a little farther. She did this several times, her little moans getting slightly louder each time until she had taken in all but the grip.

As she began her slow steady rhythm of pulling and pushing that little green phallus into herself, she reached down to the handle and turned a little knob. A soft buzzing noise mixed with an increase in her own volume.

Just as I felt that I could no longer just idly watch, she looked down at me and whispered, "Your turn."

I knew my job. From years of experience, I knew just what to do, just the right thing to give her what the Competition couldn't.

I fluttered lightly against her clitoris and took delight in her instant reaction.

I drummed faster while moving in small circles around her little nub, coaxing it out of its hood. Her pace with the Competition quickened in time with each circle I made of her swelling clit. When the little pink mound had completely revealed itself, I pressed right up against it, pulsing hard. She responded with a shudder and some unintelligible words.

From my vantage point, I could clearly see the Competition, but I was no longer jealous. I could think of nothing more than bringing her to her climax, as if I had been created for no other purpose than to please her. I throbbed harder against her exposed clitoris while watching her thrust the Competition furiously into herself. It glistened more with each stroke, and there was a soft squelch each time it plunged back inside her.

Suddenly, she let go of the Competition completely, grabbed me with both hands, and pressed me hard against her. Her hips bucked violently, and her knees snapped together, as the tremor rocked through her.

I could hear her make that noise that I love so much, a sound like she has been holding her breath for minutes before finally exhaling, causing a small squeal to escape from her throat.

I was completely trapped between her thighs but, of course, there's nowhere else I would rather have been. I continued to gently rub against her, completely content, as I felt the small aftershocks run up her back.

As her grip slowly slackened, I thought back to our long history together.

When we first met, she was a shy girl. She entered the store with her eyes cast down, embarrassed. She worked up the courage to tell the shopkeeper that she wanted a sex toy, but not a big one.

The shopkeeper kindly explained that there were plenty of toys that weren't intended for penetration, and led her to a rack of small, less intimidating ones. The girl blushed furiously as she scanned the rack before finally settling on a fire-engine-red bullet vibrator with controller.

She took me home and kept me locked in her dresser for two full days before finally trying me out. The next few months were glorious as she discovered what she liked, and discovered that I could give it to her.

I looked lovingly at her. She was so confident and sexy now. Not a sign of that shy girl I first met. She knew exactly what she wanted, and she still came to me from time to time. I was her first after all.

Her climax subsided, and she looked at me kindly.

"Thanks," she whispered softly as she reached down and turned my dial to "off", giving me some well-deserved rest.