Tuesday Tales - Give Me Such a Big Hug, You Squish My Boobs

March 31, 2014

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers and welcome to Tuesday Tales. We have a group of authors writing to a single word prompt, and the prompt this week is the simple word "hug". My mind conjures up everything from an innocent hug a momma gives to her bouncing bundle of love

to a white hot lover's embrace. This word takes us so many places and answers so many unwritten questions when we just can't find the words to communicate with someone we care about.

But today, I'm introducing you to a brand new WIP that's only 7K words in. It's with my beta reader now and I'm excited to get more words down. So, please enjoy my short piece about a "hug".

According to the particular client meeting, I pipe in a digital music station statistically shown to improve the chances of closing the deal on a contract. With women like Danika, I set the station to happy love songs. It reinforces the hope and gives her the nudge to sign on the dotted line. Whereas when I see Dominic later, I’ll set the station to the eighties big hair bands love songs.

Hey, my profiler said it works.

Speaking of my profiler, I employ one person whose sole purpose is to statistically improve the chances of the best matches possible in each season. We operate all calendar year, with each sports season always a little better than the last. I operate the business of love connections with a unique dating adventure. I’ve seen hundreds of hopefuls with the same look of excited anticipation in their eyes as Danika Parker before me in my office today.

I didn’t turn Danika down before because of anything specific about her. She just didn’t fit “the mix” until now. Speaking of which, it’s time to push forward with this interview. “So, Danika, are you ready to join fantasy football?” I held out a fancy, full-plumed writing quill. The elegant, flowing feather gave a glamorous touch. The pewter ink stand completed the set.

Danika signed with a trembling hand and a look of Christmas Eve across her fresh face. She was the cutest thing, and in another setting, I’d eat someone like her alive. Metaphorically speaking, of course. My thighs quake and my thoughts run to The Lock-Her Room. I shut down the repeating fantasy immediately. I don’t fraternize with the participants. That’s unscrupulous practice.

I also have The Lock-Him Room, but we will discuss that another time. My thighs quake again, but I digress.

Before the ink is fully dry, I’m ushering Danika out the door. “We will have a group meeting next weekend. The details are all right here.” I hand her a schedule printed on card stock. “You will also set up your personal profile on the website. Please have that done before the group meeting.” I gave her a handshake and she leaned in impulsively for a hug. Maybe I lingered a moment longer than I should have, but, she smelled good. And, damn, her breasts must be real by the way they cushioned against me with just the right amount of give for someone her age.

Stop. Danika wasn’t for me.

I love my job.

Thank you for joining me today in The Locker, please now visit our other writers for their piece about a "hug".

Tuesday Tales