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,
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.’
‘Really?’
‘Really.’
I didn’t tell her, as I should have, that I had long nurtured this fantasy of being with a transsexual. The whole idea of being inside a woman who had once been a man was really a major turn-on. I wanted to know what it was like. In some ways, Teresa was playing right into the core of one of my kinkiest fantasies.
Our conversation then took a sharp turn to the more intimate and more friendly. We each had a half a glass more wine and then decided to take our little party for two to cosier surroundings. I was willing to take her back to my place, but was very glad when she suggested we go to her apartment instead. I was incredibly excited, more than I’d been in a long time. Hell, the moment we stepped out of the club, I was hailing a taxi I spied two streets away.
We held each other tightly in the cab and about halfway back to her place starting kissing rather passionately. I was hoping that the cabbie didn’t get a good look at her, but was willing to tell him to go to hell and mind his own business even if he did. I had taken this big step and wasn’t going to turn around now.
Back at her place, she offered me another drink, but I decided I didn’t need any more alcohol at that point, so just asked for a large glass of water.
While I was drinking, Teresa said she wanted to step into the other room for just a few minutes.
When she emerged again, she was wearing a kimono. ‘It’s genuine, from Kobe. An old boyfriend bought it for me.’
‘Oh, that was nice of the old boyfriend.’
‘And when I say old, I mean old; he had at least 25 years on me, this guy. But he was so sweet and so intelligent. He was a financial analyst, but we liked to discuss literature together. He was incredibly well-read. I really liked him.’
Back at the bar, Teresa had told me that she was a Lit major at university; NUS, in fact. I never cared all that
