No Longer a Virgin

Azazel didn't rise from the bed until the afternoon of the next day, almost collapsing back onto it as his legs nearly gave way beneath him.

The bed was empty, the woman gone, leaving behind only a pale pink envelope at the bedside, marked with a bright red lipstick kiss and a red gemstone pressing down the flap.

Azazel took a swig of water, splashed his face, then sat by the window to carefully open the envelope and read:

My dearest Azazel,

By the time you read this, I will have set off on my journey. Please do not pine for me, do not fall in love with me, although I blatantly know it's impossible, for I am sure you will miss me as uncontrollably as I will yearn for you.

You were so strong, like a young bull in heat—unrefined but delectably savory. You have satisfied me beyond measure, and I suspect I will find all other men insufferable for many months to come.

As pleasurable as our time together was, I must now depart. My existence is defined by travel, my essence is to beguile all beings, and I must wander.

You will be etched in my heart, and I long for the day when we can embrace each day and revel each night in every corner of the world—among the grass, within flower beds, upon dining tables, and so many more places we've yet to explore. How I wish to be with you, but I must leave now. Meetings and partings are both parts of life; I hope you can learn to accept this.

If fate allows, we shall meet again somewhere in the multiverse, and I eagerly await that moment. I will miss you.

Yours truly most fondly,

Judy

P.S.: As per tradition, since I took your virginity last night, I have left a modest token. It may be slightly below the current rate, but I'm not exactly flush with cash at the moment. Looking forward to our next encounter, little Azazel! I adore you!

Azazel then tipped the envelope, out tumbled three glittering gold coins. He couldn't help but reflect on the three months of back-breaking corpse-carrying labor that had earned him a mere three silver coins, and here was the income of a single night, a hundredfold more. Life was indeed harsh. To spend a night with such a beauty and receive payment—what a blissful existence. Perhaps he should...

Shaking his head briskly, Azazel chased away the chaotic thoughts.

Now gazing at the gleaming coins, he was quite willing to call them disaster coins.

For a long while, Azazel sat by the window, gazing upward at the upside-down city and the ant-like pedestrians above, holding the three disaster coins in his hand.

Did I conquer her, or did she conquer me? That was a question Azazel felt he might never understand.

He glanced again at the empty bed, marked with the remnants of their wild night.

What a night it had been.

Then Azazel tossed aside the fleeting melancholy as he realized a critical fact.

I'm no longer a virgin! After so many years, nearly forty combining this life and the last, today I've finally shed that status!

Ha-ha! I've made love to a woman too—a super beauty at that!

Such joy was overwhelming. Azazel felt an urge to share this news with all his friends, every stranger he met, to share this moment of bliss with the world!

No one could call him a virgin now; he was on the verge of madness with happiness!

So out he burst from the room, proclaiming at the top of his lungs, "I'm no longer a virgin! I'm no longer a virgin!"

The world seemed entirely different for Azazel now: fresh, new, and endearing.

He ran downstairs into the tavern, still shouting, "I'm no longer a virgin!"

The "Charon's Oar" wasn't crowded at noon. The patrons watched in stunned silence as Azazel dashed naked from the upstairs, chanting his newfound status before bolting out the door!

For a moment, the tavern was frozen in time. Drinks were suspended in midair, words stuck in throats. Azazel was the only moving figure in this still-life scene, the patrons motionless as they watched his bare form leave.

After a beat, a patron asked, "What did that devil say again?"

"He said he's no longer a virgin!" another customer replied.

The twin-headed bartender shrugged nonchalantly, "Wow, he's not a virgin anymore. That's quite something."

A customer stood up, "Well then, let's drink to that... that someone, that no longer virgin chap with the decent package. Worth showing off, I suppose. Here's to him not being a virgin anymore!"

"To the no longer virgin!" the crowd chorused.

"Paul, when did you, you know, stop being a virgin?" one head whispered to the other.

Without a second thought, the other head replied, "Jack, obviously the same time as you."

The world was indeed wonderful—a marvel.

Azazel marveled inwardly, just a day ago he was on his deathbed, barely clinging to life, with only the scythe-sharpening sound of the Grim Reaper for company, alongside a cadaverous Kate who was only there for his month's salary. Kate was so devoid of charm, her body ghastly, her brain half-eaten by a maggot, and her memory frighteningly poor.

To think he'd hired someone and paid a month's wage for a few days' care, only for her to abandon her duties!

But it was precisely because of the cadaver's lack of professional ethics that Azazel found his chance. He consumed the demon core, transformed into something—he wasn't quite sure what—but since everyone agreed he was a demon from Hell, so be it.

Most importantly, Azazel was healthy now. Health was paramount!

Even more astonishing events awaited that miraculous night when he met a forward woman. And then, Azazel had his way with her. Or perhaps she had her way with him. Regardless, they made love. Azazel was no longer a virgin.

He was ecstatic, he was mad.

After so many years, he had finally taken that step.

Those married wouldn't understand Azazel's pain, those with girlfriends even less so, and those with plenty of girlfriends should just drop dead.

Azazel loved this marvelous world. He felt like someone impoverished for most of his life who had suddenly won millions—joy beyond control.

Caught in this euphoric state, Azazel did something extraordinary.

He ran through the streets, still exclaiming, "I'm no longer a virgin!"

And so, the wanderers of the Lower Ward witnessed an extraordinary sight: a pale-skinned devil running naked through the streets, who had just lost his virginity the night before.

Luckily, before Azazel had dashed further than three streets, he came to his senses, feeling the cool morning air and the stares of passersby, and realizing his exposed state.

With hands covering himself, he turned and dashed back inside, his first venture into manhood complete.