Episode 2: Mary Jane and Her 

She marvelled at how high she felt at that moment, gazing down at the joint between her fingers. Whatever Sammy had sold her was undoubtedly potent, and its effects were hitting hard. The room felt heavier and softer like the world was folding in on itself, creating a bubble in which only she existed.

She clumsily reached for her phone with the joint poised between her lips. This level of intoxication called for music. Scrolling through her Spotify library, she searched for a tune to suit her current state of mind. She wasn't sure which side of her personality Mary Jane would reveal today, but she wanted to be ready. Her finger hovered over her Burna Boy playlist, ready to hit play, until something caught her eye: a track titled "'00 Nostalgia" She didn't remember saving that.

Intrigued, she clicked on it and connected her phone to the living room's home theatre system, the bass vibrating softly beneath her feet. The phone dropped onto the table with a soft thud, and she turned to face the mirror hanging on the wall across from her.

Taking another drag, she held the smoke in her lungs momentarily, studying her reflection in the mirror as she slowly exhaled. The tendrils of smoke curled around her, framing her body in an almost poetic way.

"Damn, I'm hot," she murmured to herself, eyes sweeping over the bare curves of her body.

She always smoked naked when she was alone. It was her ritual. The freedom of it and the way the cool air brushed against her skin made the experience more intimate and real. Why she did it, she couldn't say. Maybe because, in moments like these, Mary Jane gave her confidence. Sometimes, Mary Jane brought out parts of her she didn't see every day, parts that felt bold, sexy, and untouchable. She dug deep into her desires other times, pulling out the fire hidden beneath her calm exterior. The thing is, with her, it was always unpredictable which version of herself would rise to the surface.

But she liked the uncertainty. It made her feel alive.

As she stared at herself in the mirror, she noticed how her nipples had hardened under the intensity of her gaze, as if she were a stranger admiring the body in front of her. She reached up with her free hand to cup one of her breasts, slowly teasing her nipple between her fingers. A soft moan escaped her lips before she could stop it.

"This feels good," she whispered, letting her hand drift lower, trailing the curves of her body as if she were touching someone else. She wasn't usually into self-pleasure; she preferred sharing her fantasies with a partner, letting someone else's touch bring her to the edge. But it had been a month since her last sexual encounter, and right now, it felt like her body was begging for attention.

She took one final drag from the joint, feeling the smoke fill her lungs before she leaned forward and snuffed it out in the ashtray. She needed to focus to make the most of this high. This wasn't just a casual buzz anymore; this was something more profound. Something primal.

She stood, the room swaying slightly around her as she went to the bedroom. The anticipation hummed in her veins, her skin tingling with excitement. Bending to reach under the bed, she fumbled until her fingers found the familiar edges of the box she kept hidden away. A sly smile crept across her lips as she pulled it out. The box was her secret weapon—her collection of toys for nights just like this.

A thought crossed her mind as she headed back to the living room. Towel. Right. She didn't want to make a mess. She grabbed a towel from the bathroom and spread it out in front of the mirror.

Now ready, she sat down on the towel, legs parted, and opened the box. Her eyes lingered over the assortment of toys, but she reached for the vibrating dildo without hesitation. The others could wait; she wanted to savour this moment, draw it out as long as possible.

But first, she watched herself in the mirror.

The reflection staring back at her was intoxicating. Her body looked alive, every curve illuminated by the soft glow of the lamp beside her. Her legs parted slightly, revealing her swollen clit, already throbbing in anticipation. She trailed her fingers gently along her inner thighs, teasing herself, but she wasn't ready to touch just yet. Not fully.

She bit down on her lip, her gaze locked on her own as if daring herself to go further. This is my moment, she thought. The moment to lose herself, to let her body take over without overthinking, without shame.

She reached a hand down, slowly parting her lips to reveal the glistening, wet ache that had built up inside her. Her swollen clit looked so pretty, throbbing and begging for attention.

And then—

The music.

That strange track she had forgotten started playing through the speakers, a slow, rhythmic beat filling the room. She wasn't sure if it was the music or the high, but suddenly, she felt in tune with everything. The air on her skin, the hum of the vibrator beside her, the deep pulse of desire in her core. Everything was connected, and she could feel it. Every nerve alive, every touch electric.