We have two people in this story right

We cut back to Felicia back in her own apartment as she is exploring her new apartment and room seeing everything that is there and finding a dildo underneath her bed

Felicia’s fingers brushed against something smooth and cool beneath the bedframe—an unexpected intrusion in the dust. She pulled it into the dim light, the silicone glistening faintly with residual lube, its veined shaft still faintly warm from being pressed against the floorboard. Her breath caught as she turned it over, the suction cup base sticking briefly to her palm before she peeled it free. The weight of it was obscenely familiar, the texture ridged just so, and when her thumb accidentally grazed the tip, she shuddered at the phantom memory of Michael’s mouth there instead.

Felicia gets undressed and lays on the bed as she uses the dildo on herself giving her just enough pleasure but not as much as Michael cock did from before

Felicia's breath hitched as she let the strap of her dress slither down her shoulder, the fabric pooling at her waist before she shimmied out of it completely. The cool air raised goosebumps along her thighs as she climbed onto the rumpled sheets. The dildo trembled in her grip as she positioned it, the suction base sticking obscenely to the headboard with a wet pop.

She bit her lip, teasing the tip along her slit already slick with want before easing it inside with a shuddering sigh. It wasn’t the same.

Felicia’s breath came in ragged gasps as she rocked her hips, the silicone stretching her in a way that was almost right—almost enough. The ridges dragged against her inner walls, sparking pleasure that coiled low in her belly but never quite reached the fevered intensity of Michael’s touch. Her fingers dug into her own thighs, nails leaving crescent marks as she fucked herself harder, faster, chasing that elusive edge.

A muffled cry escaped her lips as she arched, the headboard creaking with each **** thrust.

She cums after a while as she falls asleep on her bed in her apartment while that was happening we cut back to Michael's apartment as he and Brittany are just about to finish their hour long fucking session

Felicia’s back arched off the mattress as the pressure finally crested, her thighs clamping around the toy as waves of pleasure wracked her body. A strangled moan tore from her throat, her fingers twisting in the sheets as she rode out the aftershocks—each pulse of her cunt milking the silicone in shallow, erratic jerks. Exhaustion dragged her limbs heavy as she collapsed back onto the bed, the dildo slipping free with a lewd sound as her eyelids fluttered shut.

Across town, Michael’s grip on Brittany’s hips turned bruising, his thrusts losing rhythm as his cock swelled inside her.

Michael’s groan was raw against Brittany’s neck as he spilled into the condom, his hips stuttering in shallow jerks, every muscle locked tight. She clenched around him, dragging out his pleasure until he collapsed atop her, their sweat-slicked bodies sticking together in the humid aftermath. His breath was hot and ragged against her collarbone as he rolled them sideways, careful not to crush her, though his arms kept her anchored against his chest. Brittany traced idle circles over his bicep, her lashes fluttering as exhaustion weighed them down.

Across town , Felicia’s fingers twitched against the damp sheets, her thighs still trembling from the aftershocks. While back at Michael's in the morning. The first pale streaks of dawn bled through the blinds as Michael stirred, the warmth of Brittany’s body already slipping from the sheets. She moved with practiced ease, her bare feet whispering against the hardwood as she scooped her crumpled dress from the floor. The fabric slithered over her hips, straps catching briefly on the damp sheen still clinging to her shoulders before she yanked them into place.

“Thanks for last night, handsome,” she murmured, her voice husky with sleep as she leaned down to brush her lips against his stubble-rough cheek. “You were amazing—as usual.” Her teeth grazed his earlobe, a fleeting promise, before she straightened with a smirk.

Brittany she leaves Michaels apartment as we cut back to Felicias apartment as she wakes up and gets dressed to head off to college

The apartment door clicked shut behind Brittany, the echo of her heels fading down the hallway as Michael exhaled into the silence. He rolled onto his back, fingertips brushing the indent of her body left in the mattress—still warm, the sheets tangled where she’d twisted them in her haste. The scent of her perfume clung to his pillow, something citrus and dangerous, and he pressed his face into it for a heartbeat too long before forcing himself upright.

Across town, Felicia’s eyes fluttered open to sunlight slicing through half-drawn blinds. The dildo lay beside her, lube gleaming in the morning light, its suction cup still clinging stubbornly to the headboard.

Felicia gets dressed as she heads to college as Michael does the same back at his apartment as the two bump into each other when they are at college

Felicia’s fingers trembled as she peeled the silicone from the headboard with a wet pop, the sound too loud in the empty morning silence. She wiped it hastily with the edge of the rumpled sheet, lube smearing in iridescent streaks, before shoving it into her backpack—zipping it away like a shameful secret. The straps bit into her bare shoulders as she shrugged into a wrinkled blouse, buttons misaligned in her haste, the fabric still carrying the faint musk of last night’s sweat.

Across town, Michael’s shower hissed to life, steam curling around his hips as he braced his palms against the tile.

They finished their respective getting ready for getting ready for classes as Brittany texts Felicia hey girl I had a great date last night with Michael i can't wait to talk about it with you today at cheerleader practice

Felicia's phone buzzed against the nightstand, the screen lighting up with Brittany's name just as she was fastening the last button of her blouse. Her breath hitched fingertips hovering over the text notification before swiping it open. The words burned against her retinas: "Hey girl, I had a great date last night with Michael. Can't wait to talk about it with you today at cheer practice."

A drop of water slid down Felicia's wrist—leftover lube or sweat, she couldn't tell—as her thumb smeared across the screen.

Felicia’s thumb jabbed at the screen before she could second-guess herself—"Hey girl, I can’t wait to hear all about it. I hope he was amazing."—the lie tasting like sugar and rust on her tongue. The reply bubble pulsed, then vanished as Brittany’s next message appeared—a winking emoji, followed by a string of heart-eyed faces. Felicia’s stomach twisted, but her fingers stayed steady, typing out another hollow "Spill everything later!!!" just as her phone buzzed again.

This time, Harry Osborne’s name flashed across the screen, the text crisp and formal: "Are you free this weekend?