Othello

I was brimming with excitement all of Thursday. I couldn’t stop thinking about my date with Seabiscuit. I was very excited about his joining me at the theater plus the night adventures that would follow.

I hurried home after work, took a quick shower, and headed out. It had been a warm day, and I was doubtful that I needed my jacket; however, then I remembered being cold at a previous performance in the evening. Even though I had checked the weather and saw Orinda was only predicted to be in the low 60s in the evening, I knew that up in the hills, where the theater is actually located, it can get much colder. I felt foolish carrying such a large jacket on BART and felt too warm to need it, but better safe than sorry.

It was good I did. By the time I arrived at the theater, it was significantly cooler. I was happy without a jacket but realized that once the sun finished setting, I would need to put it on. I waited for Seabiscuit to arrive, and was excited to see him clean-shaven–as I had ordered as his Mistress. How good that he should obey so well! And he finally looked like one of his own photographs.

I told him previously that he appeared to be a servant of the Many-Faced God because his face never seemed to match from one photograph to another. The angles were off or something seemed so strange about it. He didn’t look like his photographs. I knew it was him, but how strange and different they all seemed.

There was a crowd, and I could tell he felt a bit shy. We hugged and kissed each other’s cheeks, then held hands as we walked up the hill from Will Call to the theater.

He bought dinner for us at the cafĂ©, and we continued holding hands. The line was long, and we really only had 10 minutes to eat before needing to be seated. He was impressed by my tickets and how close we were to the stage. The temperature had dropped significantly, so I put on my jacket when we were seated but he was astounded that I didn’t close it until after intermission. I held his hand in his lap during the first half.

During intermission, he rented a blanket while I used the restroom and got my free bag of Peet’s coffee for renewing my subscription for the theater. We shared the blanket, and for the second half, he held my hand on my lap.

The performance was amazing, as all the shows I have seen there have been. CalShakes has done very well at selecting and directing plays that resonate with race issues going on currently, and this play was exceptionally well done in that regard. Seabiscuit enjoyed it greatly, and I told him he should return with me for all of next season. He said he would love to. It was his first time going to the theater in a very long time, and he said the final scenes with the bed on stage would linger in his memory for a long time.

That Golden Hour

Seabiscuit has a lovely red leather loveseat where both sides have side buttons to kick out foot rests. The cuddling was lovely, and he’s as much into cuddling and touching as I am, so there were kisses, head rubs, and arms wrapped all around each other. (Why has no other man I have ever been with offered me this or appreciated how wonderful it is?) I was in heaven and felt pure bliss. It didn’t take long before the clothes started to come off and it was time to move to the bedroom.

I admit still feeling insecure about my body, but I was having too much fun and wouldn’t let it stop me from continuing. The afternoon melted into more bliss between sheets. 

It’s hard to describe how dreamy it all was. I’ve never felt that kind of chemistry before. We seemed a natural fit with one another. “You are commanding me without saying anything,” he said.

Seabiscuit mentioned how serene it felt to be with me, and I felt the same. Although we were excited and indulged in pleasures, there was something else there. It was very comforting.

He was also very sweet. He kept staring into my face and said, “You have such beautiful eyes.” I felt very touched and safe. It didn’t matter what we did–cuddling or kissing or just lying together–everything was blissful.

My fears and insecurities were washed away when he said, “To be honest, I wasn’t sure how I would feel about your weight. But now that I’ve seen you, I love all your curves, and your skin is so soft.” It was the sweetest thing anyone has ever told me.

Pretty soon, we realized the golden hour was near. We hopped out of bed, dressed in a hurry, and drove to those two trees to take my photo in the golden sunlight.

To those I’ve shown the photographs, they’ve remarked how happy I look and what lovely photos they are. Even Lord Byron approved.

Sunset or Fields of Gold?

Today our team had an offsite event. For team-building, we took a painting class together.

Inspired by a photograph Patrick sent, I painted something he had shown me. However, when I finished and put the painting upside, I couldn’t tell which way I liked it more.

Is it a sunset or fields of gold? Which one do you like best?