La Nuit de la Virginité Perdue

The night was getting old, the sky and clocks affirmed that. A full moon ruled in the absence of the sun. Poised, and relaxed, it moved slowly across the firmament, throwing its silent silver on the lithosphere with a delicate charm. It was as if it knew its existence was monotonous and it was at peace with that. Underneath its pale and borrowed illumination, though, was an attractive young lady who had grown tired of her constrained life, which was precisely dull. Monotony might have been fine for the moon, but it was not good for humans. And stuck in an unchanging and frustrating situation, the young woman was naturally fed up. Her name was Clarisse, she was a virgin. And this was the night when she’d trade all her claim to chastity for few minutes of wild abandon.


Clarisse’s story would have been typical of a girl raised in the French countryside of 1692, but Clarisse lived in 2013 London, when sexual mores were an infinity more relaxed than that of any pre-industrial polity of rural geography. Shameless fornication permeated her culture, so much so that everywhere she turned she was bombarded with images, slogans, and memes suggestive of coitus. In such a world, it was natural for the 22 year old Clarisse to be extremely curious – an inconvenient truth she did her best to hide.

Her unhappy condition could easily be blamed on her father. He was strict, authoritarian, and much more sadistic than he should be. He based his whole world on the bible and would not dare question it. Needless to say, he was a religious fundamentalist and his was a dying breed. Insofar as he was able to, he wielded his patriarchal power over his poor daughter with unintelligence and vanity, thinking that he was doing the Lord’s work. And the thing God found most abominable, according to the girl’s father, was a woman who lost her virginity before marriage. His influence on her was so strong that although Clarisse was of the age when she should be beyond his authority, she still terribly feared his disapproval. So up until tonight, Clarisse was made to live a life of quiet desperation and sexual frustration, all the while pretending that she hated or was at least indifferent towards  the very thing that fascinated her the most – the male phallus, a symbol of natural generative power.

Life for Rent (2)

There was only one time when sexual carte blanche was permitted in the girl’s shackled consciousness and that was after marriage, a day which couldn’t come too soon for her. On that blessed day, she always imagined that she’d strip off her clothes with superhuman haste and lose her sense of guilt and self-control along with them in anticipation of consummationem matrimonii. And although she was desperately horny, she was determined to and sure that she could hold out till then.

But “all certainty brings a grin to the Devil’s mouth,” because the day Clarisse met the young Chad Thompson was the day she began to be released from her father’s spell and placed under a new one – Chad’s. Chad was ruggedly handsome with a soothing light-heartedness mixed with the right amount of masculine cruelty that made him popular with the ladies everywhere he went, which, consequently, made him the man about town everywhere he went. And from the day Clarisse laid eyes on him standing against the silhouette of the setting sun with his brown trilby slightly tilted and very complimentary to his grey V-neck worn in such a way as to suggest that he was half predator and half prey, she was a little more than slightly infatuated with him. And by the time they finished their first conversation, which was 3 days after she saw him matched against the sunset, she was nearly completely spell-bound.  And by the time they ended their third tête-à-tête, she was entirely under his wizardry.

Deep feelings of romance were, of course, new to Clarisse. She had always caught the attention of young men at her local church because she was immensely attractive, but their attitude towards sex was just as constricting as hers and they were correspondingly afraid of liaisons. So her affection for the opposite sex never even came close to blossoming. Furthermore, as an evangelist, her father was a man of considerable status in the church and she believed it was also her duty to do all in her power to protect his ministerial distinction. After all, if a man can’t preach to his only daughter, who could he preach to?

But no amount of preaching could stop or dampen what she felt for Chad. She was deeply in love.


Clarisse and Chad had been talking as friends for 2 months now. And they spoke a great deal about sex. The more conversations they had, the more the sweet Clarisse relented on her strict morals. So by the time January 29, 2013, was preparing to become a note in the moving symphony of eternity, Clarisse was more open to fornicate than ever. He knew she liked him, it was easy to tell. He’d flirt with her, and she’d try her best to keep up. She wasn’t very good at it, but it’s the intention that counts in these situations. If any young man says he has turned down attention from a beautiful woman because she wasn’t as good at broadcasting sexual interest as he was, let him be a liar.

La nuit de la virginité perdue caught Clarisse in the young man’s apartment, which was three blocks from her house. She had told her father that she was going to sleep over at her friend’s house and she had told her trustworthy friend about her plans. So she was safe from her father for now. Clarisse was sure of her love and to prove it she was going to trade her Christian virtue for sexual dissolution with the willing merchant, Chad, no matter what or who said otherwise. She counted the lie as necessary and stubbornly repressed all attendant feelings of contrition. “Better to ask for absolution after experiencing pleasure than to never experience pleasure at all,” she thought.

When the hour and mood was right, young, urban lovers started kissing. Hands started to meander over sensitive areas, lungs started behaving as if they were being starved of oxygen, and bodies, in general, became tense and alive with sexual energy. She was nervous, and Chad could see and feel it in how fast her heart was pumping blood. But it was too late; she was way too deep into her lascivious excursion to turn back, so they naturally went forward. The first article of clothing, her beloved Zara top, fell and her bra followed thereafter, exposing two well-formed breasts. Then her pants slipped off her fertile hips and round posterior; she was left in her silly pink, white and black polka dot panties. She thought the state and appearance of her underwear made her seem exactly immature, but Chad didn’t seem to notice them. Sometimes, curiously, blemishes on works of art made them better and she was truly a work of art. He took those silly polka dot panties off her and then it was her time to remove his clothes, which she did with a fair amount of trembling.

All this time they were standing up, but passion now moved them to his bed. It wasn’t the bed of roses that she had always wanted to accommodate the loss of her virginity, but in this heated moment she found that wish nugatory.

Chad took her virgin condition into account and made her climb on top so she could be in control. With much sighing and extended sensitivity, she eased her way into sexual union. Once joined, the girl took her time in moving about so that the boy’s phallus touched places inside her she wasn’t aware of until now. At first she was in painful discomfort. However, that subsided soon because in all her tentative moving about, she accidentally discovered her most pleasurable spot and ecstasy washed over her in waves. She had a few violent convulsions and moaned from a deep place, presumably from where their bodies where joined. On perceiving her enjoyment, the boy started to enjoy himself too and their movements seemed to flow for the next twenty minutes.Other(3)

In any event, the boy did what was natural and secreted a white solution into the contraceptive that was wrapped around his phallus. With that, he seperated from Clarisse, ending their first liaison.

All fell quiet for a while, and then Chad asked for feedback, which Clarisse gave. Then all fell quiet again. By now, Clarisse had begun to feel guilty, and didn’t feel like talking, but then the thought came to her that the loving God who gave her free will could not possibly be mad if she exercised it. That thought was followed by the feeling that she was asking a question that should not be asked, but then the thought came again that it made no sense for any loving and fair deity to punish a young woman for expressing her naturalness. Her mental pendulum swung back and forth between such discrepant thoughts and feelings for the rest of the time she was awake, which for most of the night. She didn’t find relief for her doubt and guilt, but the noteworthy thing was that she was dissatisfied with the answers her father given her, and was now in search of better ones. It was the beginning of a brave new world.

by Mark Hutchinson // photography by Yasmin Al-Samarrai


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