Eddie’s life in Des Moines had been a neatly packaged affair, predictable and ultimately, empty. Forty-four, divorced, and childless, he’d stared at his reflection one morning and seen a man defined by what he wasn’t. He packed his bags, sold his house, and with a stubborn hope in his heart, bought a one-way ticket to the Philippines. Davao City, specifically. He’d read online, seen the dating sites – the women were beautiful, family-oriented, and eager for a life with a Western man. He wanted children, a legacy, a second chance. He wanted a family.

He found a handsome house in a quiet, leafy neighborhood, complete with a sparkling pool that reflected the tropical sun. It was more than he’d ever afforded back home, a testament to his new beginning. Two weeks in, while sipping coffee on his lanai, he saw her. She was walking a small, fluffy dog down the street, a vision of effortless grace. Her long, black hair cascaded over impossibly smooth shoulders, her figure curvaceous and elegant in a simple sundress. Her face, framed by sunglasses, held an almost ethereal beauty. Eddie felt a familiar flutter, a spark of the hope he’d crossed an ocean for.

Later, he mentioned her to his maid, a kindly woman named Aling Nena. “The beautiful lady, Aling Nena, who walks the white dog. Do you know her? I’d like to meet her.”

Aling Nena paused, a mischievous glint in her eyes, and then giggled, a soft, conspiratorial sound. “Oh, Sir Eddie! That’s Athena. She’s a ... a bakla!”

Eddie frowned, confused. “A what?”

“A bakla, Sir. Not a real girl. She’s very beautiful, yes, but ... she’s a not a real girl.” Aling Nena’s giggle turned into a full-blown chuckle.

Eddie stared, dumbfounded. A man? It was impossible. He replayed the image in his mind – the soft sway of her hips, the delicate curve of her neck, the undeniable feminine allure. No, Aling Nena must be mistaken.

Over the next few weeks, he saw her several more times. She waved, he waved back. He learned her name was Athena, and she was indeed 24, the daughter of a prominent, wealthy family. Her parents, he later heard, had been incredibly supportive, even paying for her very expensive breast implants in South Korea. The results were stunningly natural, full and soft beneath her clothes. Yet, Aling Nena’s words echoed. “She still has ... you know,” the maid had added, comically using her hands to form the shape of a penis. This detail, though shocking, only intensified Eddie’s fascination. He started to wonder, in a way he never had before, what that might mean. He, Eddie, a straight man, was undeniably attracted to this “bakla.” It was a strange, unsettling feeling, yet undeniably potent.

One humid Saturday, Eddie decided to host a pool party. He knew Athena frequented the neighborhood gym, and on a whim, he invited her when he saw her leaving. She accepted with a dazzling smile.

She arrived, a vibrant splash of color in a flowing, tropical print dress, her hair pulled back in a single long pony tail. Several of the other male guests, older expats like Eddie, circled her like moths to a flame. Eddie watched, a peculiar mix of pride and a strange, unfamiliar protectiveness bubbling within him, as they propositioned her, oblivious to the truth. She handled them with polite, knowing smiles, deflecting their advances with ease. He found himself drawn to her, fascinated by her confidence, her beauty, her mystery.

The party wound down, and as the last of the guests trickled out, Athena lingered by the pool, her bare feet dipping into the cool water. The moon cast a silvery glow on the surface.

“It was a lovely party, Eddie,” she said, her voice soft and melodious.

“Thanks for coming, Athena. You really lit the place up.” He sat beside her, dangling his own feet in the water. The air was thick with the scent of jasmine and the subtle perfume of her skin. “Want to take a dip?”

She smiled, a slow, alluring curve of her lips. “I thought you’d never ask.” She stood, gracefully shedding her dress to reveal a tiny, white bikini that perfectly showcased her ample breasts and slender waist. Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He felt an erection stirring, a primal surge of desire that shocked him with its intensity. He’d never felt such a visceral pull towards a man.