there. But I knew I wouldn’t. After a few strokes, I felt much more comfortable. And before long, it became very pleasurable. Teresa’s vagina was very tight and though not as deep as I would have liked, it fitted me nicely.

In fact, I thought I was about to come after less than a minute; that’s how good the pussy was. I closed my eyes and stiffened up my lower parts. Teresa slowed down her own stroking to a near halt. ‘You almost came, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, but—’

‘Don’t worry, darling; that often happens. Most of the guys I’ve known, they lose control quickly with my vagina. So let’s just relax, take it slow, and get used to the feel of the pussy.’

Which is exactly what I was trying to do. After another minute or so of soft thrust and pull, I felt more used to the sensation. Then we steadily picked up tempo and force, moving with an intensity I’d only known with a few women.

As we moved, Teresa started thrusting energetically. She suddenly called out, ‘I love it, I love it. Oh, I really love it. You feel so right. This is what I want; you.’

‘You’re what I want too. You feel so right.’ We were now going full throttle. Teresa’s pumping under me was, not surprisingly, unique. It was as if she was trying to regain some lost and essential part of herself in the act of sex. Though I was trying to constrain myself as much as I could, I came more quickly than was usual for me. As she was still going, I kept pumping as long as I could, but finally, I slumped against her, thoroughly exhausted. I was sucking in short, shallow breaths and the air in the room had this wonderful sour taste to it.

For the next I’m-not-sure-how-many minutes we lay there, holding each other, mumbling words. I asked her if she enjoyed it, what it was like, if she came. She answered ‘yes, definitely yes’ to all three. I wanted details, but thought I should let the whole thing simmer for awhile before I started trawling for them.

About ten minutes later, we started kissing again, first just affectionately, then passionately. I was getting hard again after about thirty seconds of this. I started to climb aboard, but she pushed me back and said she had to go to the loo first, to urinate and then to re-lubricate. Before she climbed out of bed, she took my head in her hands and gave me a soft, very loving kiss. I may have been wrong because of the dim light, but I thought I detected a sadness in her face as she moved away.

As I waited for her to come back, I tended to the maintenance of my erection. I wanted to make sure it was ready for action upon her return, but that return was delayed… and delayed. It wasn’t too long, I suspect, before I slid into a deep sleep, probably a combination of the wine, the excitement and the exhaustion of our love- making.

I woke up in the early shafts of morning light, all alone in the bed. I hauled myself up to a sitting position and noted the slight headache pushing against my temples and forehead. I somehow found my shorts behind a chair, pulled them on and headed out to the living room.

Teresa was there on the long, plush couch, apparently asleep. She had a bath towel wrapped loosely around her waist, a long pink T-shirt pulled over her torso, and was wearing those sort of black blindfold things people wear on planes when they’re trying to catch some sleep. I walked over to her quietly and touched her left shoulder lightly.

‘Is that you?’

‘Were you expecting anyone else?’ She smiled at this.

‘What time is it?’

‘Early.’

‘That must be why I’m still so tired.’

‘May also have something to do with the exercise we managed to sneak in.’

‘Maybe.’ She took a deep sigh. ‘So, Raymond… or should I call you Hector?’

‘Whatever suits you.’

‘Was it everything you thought it would be?’

I didn’t really know how to answer that, but rather than allowing myself to be choked by silence, I said it was even better than I ever thought. I then sucked back my lips before admitting, ‘It was one of the most fantastic sexual experiences I’ve ever had.’

‘Good. That’s what I was hoping I could give you.’

I looked down at that beautiful face and thought I saw tears trickling down from just under the blindfold.

‘Teresa, is there something wrong?’

‘No, no; everything’s just right. Look, there are a couple of things I have to do. I really have to do them before too late, and I need solitude to do them in. I don’t mean to be brusque or impolite, but…’

‘No, no, of course. I understand. You’ve got things that have to be done.’

‘Thank you.’

She sat up from the couch for the first time, pointed to the coffee table next to the couch and asked me to get her the pad of paper sitting there. I did.

She tore the top sheet off and handed it to me. ‘This is my phone number.

Give me a call. I’ll be sort of busy for the next few days, but I’ll be very free after that.’

‘Okay.’

She then slid back into her recumbent position on the couch. I grabbed the last of my things that were lying around and got ready to leave. Suddenly, she spoke again.

‘Let me ask you: do you really have any idea who Teiresias was?’

I laughed. ‘Not a clue.’

She gave a chugging laugh. ‘Teiresias was this guy in Greek mythology who had a good position; a top assistant to one of the gods. Anyone, one day he was walking along, saw these two snakes copulating, thrashed them with his walking stick, and was turned into a woman as a “punishment”.’

‘Ooo.’

‘Then, one day, Zeus and Hera—the king and queen of the gods?—they had this argument about who gets more pleasure in sex, a man or a woman.

So they asked Teiresias, because she knew both sides. Teiresias was certain: woman have much more pleasure in sex.’

‘I see. And would you agree with that?’

‘Who am I to argue with my role model?’ I laughed at that one.

We exchanged a few more rounds of banter, and then I had to go. She asked me to kiss her goodbye, which I did even though she remained lying on the couch with her blindfold on. I tried to lift it off for this last kiss, but she resisted strongly. ‘I don’t have to see you. I still see you, see you the way you were when we were one. That’s the best view, believe me.’ I relented.

I smoothened out the blindfold and leaned into her lightly. It was a warm and gentle kiss, one that promised future meetings.

But I never saw her again. For the next few days, I kept calling and getting a message to leave a message. I left about two dozen of them, some of the later ones rather angry or pitifully desperate. After the third day, when I called, I was told the number was no longer in operation.

I then drove out to where she lived. Because it was a condo, I couldn’t get past the guards. I tried to explain that I needed to see Teresa, to clarify something, but these guys weren’t very helpful. Well, to be fair, I wasn’t even sure of her apartment number or the building she was in. I thought I knew, but the guards, of course, wouldn’t let me go in and wander around to check.

I tried to describe her, but what could I say—that I was looking for a beautiful woman who used to be a man named David? I didn’t even know her last name. For that matter, was Teresa itself her real name? Was there anything about this person that was one hundred percent real?

I went to the club were he had met, went quite a few times in fact, but she never came back. At least not on the evenings I was there. It was as if she’d just disappeared.

Well, she did warn me more than once that evening that she was complex.

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