Erotica By Bravo: Dighton and Forrest Do Christmas

Michele Bravo had an erotica story to write for her readers, and for some reason, even though Christmas was a little over two months away, she decided to make it a Christmas story. Perhaps because she was sweltering in 90 degree heat and the news on the telly had been extremely depressing. She hoped that her readers would find that a little snow and Christmas cheer would not come amiss.

Happiness Is Whatever You Want it to Be
Large snowflakes floated down from the dark sky, falling onto the shoulders of Peter Dighton and Sasha Forrest as they walked down a sidewalk, holding hands.

The evening was warm, so much so that the snowflakes were melting on the sidewalk, but gathered in pristine whiteness on the lawns and on the grass strips that separated the sidewalk from the street.

It was December, and as was their tradition, they had attended a performance of A Christmas Carol at the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Dighton and Forrest had first met in Minneapolis five years ago, when Sasha had been an ex-collegiate fencer turned actress, and Dighton had been the fight choreographer and lead actor in a play in which she had appeared [the story of their courtship can be found at: En Garde: Seduction (Erotica By Bravo)
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They walked in silence along the sidewalk to their car, occasionally moving closer to each other to bump arms and exchange glances and smiles.

They reached their destination, the Garland Restaurant, and walked in. Although the Garland was a hit with the post-theatre crowd, it was large enough to be able to seat them all with no waiting. The restaurant specialized in world-wide cuisine, serving the signature meals of the Orient -- Japan, China, and Thailand; Europe – England, France and Spain, and the Americas – American and Mexican.

Dighton chose sweet and sour chicken served in Thai style, while Sasha elected to have Shepherd’s Pie. While they ate, they held hands…that was the joy of the dishes they’d chosen – only a fork was needed, leaving one hand free for caressing.

“I love this Shepherd’s Pie,” Sasha murmured. “Reminds me of the first time I was in England - London of course. I had this at the Heathrow Hotel, and loved it. My mom used to try to make it for me over the years, but she could never get the ingredients right. It was good, of course, her version, but it never had that je ne sais quois that you get from the kind made in England.”

“I loved London and the West End,” Peter said. “My tradition was Pizza Hut. My brother was stationed over there for some years, up at RAF Upper Heyford. So each year I’d visit him and we’d go down to London and catch some plays in the West End. And we’d always have a pizza at Pizza Hut, and Garlic cheese bread. It was our traditional pre-theatre meal.”

After they’d finished their meal, Peter and Sasha started the walk back to their car. The snow had stopped, and the full moon cast a silver glow on the snow.

Peter sang, in a pleasant baritone, just low enough so that only Sasha could hear:

“They say happiness is a thing you can't see
A thing you can't touch “

Sasha joined in:
“I disagree
Happiness is standing beside me
I can see him
He can see me
Happiness is whatever you want it to be
Happiness is a high hill
Will I find it?
Yes, I will
Happiness is a tall tree
Can I climb it?
Watch and see “

Peter leaned over and kissed her cheek. Then he continued the song:

“They say happiness is the folly of fools
Pity poor me
One of the fools

Happiness is smiling upon me
Walking my way
Sharing my day “

Then they both sang together:
“Happiness is whatever you want it to be “

Sasha sang out in her bell-like voice
“Happiness is a bright star
Are we happy? “

Peter smiled,
“Yes, we are “

Sasha hugged his arm tightly.
“Happiness is a clear sky “

Peter joined her in the rest of the verses”
“Give me wings and let me fly
Let me fly

For happiness is whatever you want it to be
Yes, happiness is whatever you want it to be “

“I loved that movie,” Sasha said. “Truth to tell, Scrooge is my favorite version of A Christmas Carol, and Albert Finney is my favorite Scrooge.”

“Kenneth More was the best Ghost of Christmas Present,” Peter agreed, “and Edith Evans was the best Ghost of Christmas Past.”

“I like his song, too,” said Sasha. “Shall we sing it?”

“Too late,” said Peter, “here’s the car. Well, we can serenade ourselves on the way to the hotel.”

And they did, singing the Ghost of Christmas Present’s song, “I like life,” at the top of their lungs.

After that, Peter put a CD of Mannheim Steamroller’s Christmas Carols in the CD player. They had time to listen to only a couple of tracks before they arrived at their hotel, where they were staying while carrying out their Christmas tradition.

Their hotel room had a mini-Fridge. Sasha went to it and pulled out a bottle of wine and two chilled wine glasses, and some chocolate truffles.

They left the TV off, this was their alone time, and being actors they recited sonnets and love poems to each other. The goal of the game was that Sasha – or as it might be, Peter – would quote one stanza of the poem or sonnet, and then Peter, or, as it might be, Sasha, would have to recite the next stanza, and so on. If one of them couldn’t deliver the correct stanza, he – or she – would take a drink of wine, and the other one would get to eat a truffle.

Finally, wine drunk and truffles devoured, they undressed and went to bed. They entwined together but didn’t make love, merely snuggling up to each other and feeling the warmth and the pleasure in each other’s company.