Author: Erato Title: The Book of Azan Universe: Azan Keywords: MF, Msolo, F1st, cons Language: English Part: Chapter 1 of 11 CHAPTER 1 Katie came to my house one night. "Anne isn't in," I said, referring to my wife. Anne and I had been married for a couple of years. Anne's an emergency department nurse and had gone out for a drink with a few of her friends from work. Katie, Anne and I had all first met about six years ago at the start of University. Anne was training to be a nurse, Katie was studying politics, and I was reading computer science. We'd all had plenty of other friends of course, but a small group of about eight of us had remained close friends after we'd all left University and gone on to pursue our different careers. Anne and I had left London after we'd got married and bought a small house in a village in Hampshire. Although between us we made enough money, she as a nurse and myself as a freelance IT security consultant, to live comfortably in London, mortgage companies were very wary about lending us money due to my self-employed status. This necessitated the move out of the capital, to a place where we could afford to buy with a smaller mortgage. "Aren't you going to offer me a drink?" asked Katie, gesturing towards my glass of Sancerre. Katie doesn't normally drink. For most of the last two millennia, alcohol hasn't been a part of Asian culture in the same way it was in Europe, therefore the ability to metabolise it slowly and steadily hasn't been what is called in evolutionary biology a "selective pressure". So like most South-East Asians, Katie doesn't handle her drink very well. After she'd shown me her train ticket, so I was sure that she wasn't planning on driving home, I went to the kitchen to fetch another glass. As we had our drinks, we talked about Katie's career. She's always been interested in politics. Her parents came to the UK from Hong Kong before she was born because of politics. In 1997, Hong Kong was due to become part of China and from the early 1980s, large numbers of people from the colony left in masses to the UK because of the uncertainty over Hong Kong's future. Katie's parents were one of the first wave. At high school, Katie had been elected as student representative two years in a row. Perhaps in the first election, her looks had helped her. Although only five foot two (157 cm), she was a devastating beauty. She had long, shiny black hair, pale brown skin, pearl white teeth, dark brown eyes and a small, slightly upturned nose. A keen swimmer, she was in great shape - slim, but not skinny; toned, but not like one of those scary female body builders with bulging muscles. Like many Asians, she had not been blessed in the cleavage department, but her small breasts were a nice shape. Of course, back in school she'd had a bit of an acne problem, but so did all the competition. She got pretty much all the male vote automatically, and as she was well-liked, if not exactly popular with the girls at her school, she ended up with a large majority. Her record as student representative was impressive. She'd managed to get the different departments at her school to co-ordinate their homework schedules so that the previously common situation where a student would have several big, important assignments due on the same day was eliminated. Assignments were staggered, students were less stressed, and reputedly their grades raised enough for Westminster to take notice. When it came time for her re-election the next year, she increased her majority. In University, Katie had taken less of an active role in student politics, preferring to concentrate on her studies in political science and, of course, her swimming. She'd joined a political party and occasionally went on rallies against such-and-such a policy. She'd even taken Anne and I along to a couple. "So they're asking me to stand in this by-election at Hartsbridge," Katie said while sipping on her wine. Hartsbridge is a constituency just a few miles from my house; the local MP there, a popular fellow by all accounts, had recently died, leaving a vacant parliamentary seat. "The Prime Minister reckons that I have a good chance of winning." "Aren't you a bit young to be standing as an MP already? Don't most politicians try to get a few local council seats under their belt before standing for parliament?" I asked, and refill her glass. But Katie assured me that there have been plenty of other 24-year-olds elected to parliament before, and some even younger. "And the lack of council experience could count as an asset. A lot of candidates have stories of financial scandals dredged up when they're campaigning. I'm innocent and new!" Katie laughed. Then Katie became silent. I wondered if she was feeling OK - she'd gotten through that first glass of wine pretty quickly and was already half-way through another large glass. Her face was flushed and pink and she didn't look her normal, confident self. Like she was nervous about something. I asked if she was alright. "Fine, fine. Don't worry. So, what's been going on with you and Anne?" As I recounted the mundane day-to-day details of what had been happening in our lives over the past few weeks since we'd seen Katie, I watched as she fidgeted and drummed her slender fingers. As she passed me her glass for another refill, her hands were trembling. She sat silently, sipping at her wine while I tried to make small-talk. She didn't seem to really be listening. Katie and I normally get along well, but this conversation was becoming very awkward. I began to wish that Anne would come back to help diffuse the tension. "It's about that," Katie interrupted. "That innocent thing. I'm a virgin you know?" I didn't know. But I'd always suspected it. Although beautiful, Katie had never had a boyfriend the whole time we'd known her. On the few occasions that we'd met her pre-university friends, they'd suggested that she'd never had a serious relationship in high school either. Of course, you can lose your virginity without having a "boyfriend" per se, but casual sex didn't really seem to be Katie's sort of thing. It seemed a damn shame, that then men of the world should have missed out on such a treat was unfair. With her tight little athletic body and exotic looks, a night with Katie would be a night most men would want to remember for the rest of their lives. "I want you to fix that," Katie blurted out. "I'm 25 next month, and I don't still want to be a virgin on my next birthday. I'm fed up with waiting. I was always waiting for the right guy to come along, but I don't see why this has to be a big deal. I should just get it out of the way, and then I can start dating men like a normal person - I won't need to agonise over whether each man is good enough to be 'the one'." "Look," I started, "I'm a married man. And by the way, thanks for making it clear that I could never be the 'right guy'. You and Anne are friends. This could never happen." "That's not what I meant. What I mean is that I want to get on with my life, with my career, without this pressure weighing me down. I need someone to 'fix me' and I wouldn't want to choose anyone else but you, my friend. I know you're married, but that just makes you even better qualified. It means you probably have a good idea of what you're doing in the bedroom department. And I know how much you love Anne, which means you're not going to want to get into a 'relationship' afterwards." Just then, we heard a key turn in the lock. Anne came into the room. "Katie, what a surprise," she said. She turned to me and asked, "aren't you going to pour me a glass?" As we sat, and Anne and Katie went over all the things that Anne and I had been doing over the past few weeks, with Katie paying a bit more attention this time. I watched Katie; she seemed more relaxed now that she'd gotten that question off her chest. I thought about what she'd proposed. I could see that this was an issue that was weighing down on her mind, and I really wanted to help her as a friend. But I loved Anne, the beautiful red-headed Anne, who was sitting across the room from her on the arm chair. I couldn't betray Anne. As Katie spoke, she played with her hair. She normally tied it back in a pony tail, but she was wearing her hair loose that night. Glimpses of light reflected off the silky strands as she twirled it around her fingers. She was a vision of oriental beauty. I began imagining her long black hair draped over her slender shoulders, caressing her pert little breasts. Imagining stroking my hand down her hair, over her flat, toned stomach and down towards her tight virgin cunt. Was it hairy or just a little fuzzy? I didn't know. I could find out. I swallowed. No, it could never happen. I sat up straight. I'd not really been listening to the conversation, but it seemed that Katie was preparing to leave now. Anne and I walked her to the door. The door closed behind her. I opened it. She was half way down the path. "That thing we were talking about", I called to her, "How about next weekend?"