“As you can see for yourself, you have failed to achieve arousal.” Elder Anton was agitated. “We cannot admit you into the Order. This has been your last chance. Please leave the room, dress and go. Do not come back to us again.’

It was then dark, and silent. I walked to where I felt the door was, opened it and started walking…

…across twenty years into this room, beside her.

I don’t know why I’d bothered. Since that day two decades ago, my only ‘arousal’ had been with you. I’d disappointed every other woman, even with medication. Ten years ago, I’d stopped trying or even responding.

When she poses at my figure-drawing classes, she puts her entire soul and body into the stillness of the pieces. My students love her for her beauty and ease, as do I.

Then she offers to show me her room. I accept, knowing she is ‘safe’.

So I am here.

After seeing her room, we chat. Our voices drift across the evening into the night—there seems much to chatter on about. It is almost morning and we are tired. She asks if she could lie down. I say it is her place. She asks if I’m tired, and if I’d do the same. There is only one bed.

The chatter floats and I fall asleep, preparing to meet you.

I am without clothes, and you are on top of me. You have slipped your vagina around my penis and are rubbing it with the gestures of sex. As you do so, you grip and let go of me, inducing a swell of pleasure, I also sense your pleasure.

I feel you come, just before I am about to release the tension that has pleasured me. Your lightness floats on me as you let go. I wait for you to raise your hips and unsheathe my penis… but you go on. You rock your hips with me still inside and your scent, now mixed with mine, floods my senses.

You go on, and we thrash and thrash, and I move into a past when I had known pleasure.

I come, and come, and come.

Light floods between us. Dawn brings the squawk of a feral cockatoo which turns my face toward the window. The sky dazzles me. I turn back to look at you, and you are… her!

“We…?” You look at me, dripping with joy, wafting in our scent.

“Twenty years ago, I fell in love with you before I was born. I knew you would love me too, but you wanted to join that Order and I would have lost you forever. I had to keep you from that and from the other women, because I know you would have married them. I am sorry I made you wait so long.” We kiss.

I, TEIRESIUS

Alaric Leong, Singapore

‘Yes, they’re real.’ A pause. ‘One hundred percent real.’

Talk about being jolted; I felt like a school kid who’d just been caught doing something naughty in class. I mean, that clarification came from out of nowhere. We had been talking about the advertising industry when suddenly my companion there at the bar had thrown that at me.

‘Uhh… excuse me. I didn’t mean to—’ No, I didn’t mean to, but the worst thing was that the moment I was accused of it, my eyes automatically slipped down to peer at the things I’d been just sneaking peeks at until then.

She put her hand under my chin and lifted it just a little, to face level.

‘My eyes. The colour? This is the real colour of my eyes, this hazel brown. One of my great grandparents was European, from Bohemia or somewhere. I evidently inherited that gene from him.’

‘I see. Yes, your eyes. I was… wondering about that colour. I mean, these days, with all the things you can do, shaded lenses and all.’

‘Believe me, I don’t have any lenses. I don’t need them.’

‘That’s good to know.’

Then came that sly smile. ‘The other things, they’re also real. The things you were just sneaking repeated looks at.’

‘Excuse me, I didn’t—’

‘Haven’t we been here before? Anyway, to put your doubts to rest: these tits are mine, too.’

‘Of course. Who else’s would they be?’

And then he… she… this strange person sitting opposite me threw his, her head back and gave this husky, deep-throated laugh. Which only deepened my suspicions. Whatever the current status of this woman, I was pretty sure she did not start out life as a female. There were all sorts of clues; that manly laugh was just one of many.

‘By the way, what’s your full name, Mr Advertising Accounts Executive?’

‘Oh, that’s right, I didn’t… Raymond Chua.’

‘Raymond. Nice name. I’ve always liked that name. I’ve often thought that if I have maybe six sons, one of them will definitely be called Raymond.’

‘Yeah? Well, like they say, everybody loves Raymond. And your name is…?’

‘Teresa. That’s good enough for now. A simple Teresa.’

‘But not so simple a person, I think.’

Teresa then crossed her very shapely legs and smiled. ‘I court complexities. Simple is, for me, just a synonym for “boring”.’

‘I see.’

‘I hope you don’t see! If you did, I wouldn’t be complex enough.’

‘Okay. Uhh… can I buy you another drink?’

Teresa nodded. ‘I think so. But only if I can buy you a drink in the next round after this one.’

‘I wouldn’t say “no”.’ And I didn’t.

And so it went for four more rounds, each of us alternating on buying the next round. Her drink was white wine, mine was red. And after that fifth round for both of us, in vino veritas had taken command of the conversation.

It also produced a certain level of physical comfort. Teresa had already slipped her hand over mine a couple of rounds back, and had now moved it up under my shirt sleeve, lightly stroking the hair on my forearm.

‘So… do you like me, Raymond?’

‘I think I do.’

He.. she laughed. ‘Why are guys always like that? I wasn’t asking who you think is going to win the World Cup. I asked you about your feelings, what you feel. You’re not sure what you feel?’

‘Well, I… what I feel is complex. It’s… I don’t know how to explain.’

‘Okay, Raymond, I do like you. Like you quite a bit. Like you enough to let you ask me.’

‘Ask you what?’

‘Ask me the question you’ve been wanting to ask since you first saw me earlier this evening, across the room, when you liked what you saw and then wondered what might be wrong with you for liking it.’ There was then a tense pause. ‘My sexuality. You’re not curious?’

‘Sure I am.’ I took a deep breath. ‘Okay: Teresa, are you really a man?’

Teresa looked me right in the eyes. ‘Not anymore.’ Bang. Like being hit over the head.

She then inched her left hand over and pulled her plunging neckline down a couple of plunges. ‘Like I said, these breasts are real. I had to undergo treatment to grow them, but they are real, they are all Teresa. And Teresa, nee David, is now a woman.’

‘Do you… Uhhm, what’s the state of your plumbing?’

‘Complex. But the main thing is, I don’t have a penis. I lost that.’

‘Are you a…’

‘Full woman down there? Well, I have a vagina. A functioning vagina.’

She then drew a long, sad breath. ‘And with that, I think I’ve just signalled an end to our pleasant conversation this evening. I think I have told you more than I should have told you.’ She took her wine glass and rapidly drained the last third. She had the saddest look on her face.

For a moment, I didn’t know how to respond, so I just sat there, gazing at her like a fool. ‘And you don’t have to apologise, Raymond. Or make up some lame excuse. Just tell me that you enjoyed our little intimate chat, but you can’t go any further with a woman who grew up a man.’

She sat there, staring off into the corner with a defeated expression. A few moments later, she turned back, managed a loser’s smile, then blew me an air kiss, slid off the seat and turned away.

‘No, wait,’ I called out. ‘I’m not turned off by you. In fact, I’m… I find you even more enticing now that I know the truth.’ In vino veritas was in full force here.