3. Waft of its Smoke The Hug

There would not be a kiss.  She had a cold.  He had a grandchild she didn’t want to expose.  He gave her the hug, who knows who proposed it, but here is where the old souls met.

 

The Hug

Later she would say it was like memory foam.  It was falling into a familiar vessel, being part of a safe place.

 

They got out of the car and she walked around to the passenger side as he was exiting.  She felt he wanted to leave, withdraw himself without feeling the obligatory hug attempted kiss.  She may have already told him there would not be a kiss. Gentlemanly, he was extracting himself. She was feeling poorly and felt a cold coming on, but didn’t want to leave without a hug.  The hug is the thing men like and she was willing to give.  The endorphin rush of a good hug is worth the sometime wandering hand of a gent. She liked having men feel, under her protective layering of clothes, her body’s sensuality. She had magnificent breast and tapered waist that could only be confirmed with a good hug.

 

She stepped into this hug with the anticipation of a nice embrace.  Her neck would be stretched because of his height, maybe even contorted. What she felt instead was a door opening inside.  Massive material from his overcoat opened for her to step inside the warmth. Embracing her she felt a sinking into and dissolving release from his body.  He didn’t have that crush you to my backbone hug of men flattening your boobs like a pancake hug.  It was just like she never wanted or could leave.  She was there.  Home.

 

Stepping back and out of his way, they stopped for a hair moment and eyed each other. 

 

“That was nice,” was all she could manage.

 

“It was.”

 

“Ok, well, I’ll let you go,” and they shuffled around each other.  His car was actually right next to hers but on the drivers side.  They walked together, then parted, not really wanting to leave, at that space between the cars. 

 

Quick hug again, “Bye.”

 

Back into her car, she started it and pulled out.  The dome light in his car on as he mapquested his way home.

 

The drive home full of thoughts.  What do you think?  She asked herself.  Her first thought was wow he’s a bigger guy in person, very imposing.  He kept reaching across the table for her hands? Or just to be inside her boundaries, closer to her.  It was that hug.  Had she reached across to him? Invade his space? But the hug.

 

In classic girly fashion, Will he call her tomorrow?

 

“Achoo,” and she sprayed the inside of the car with a sneeze.


Part 4 The cold and Home visit

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Part 3 of my "novel" 

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allets's picture

The Plot Thickens

a romance - aaah I used to read those long ago. ~A~


 

 

djtj's picture

Is it enough?

Will the romance sustain a "novel"?  Do they need an adventure, an illness,  a mystic revelation.  I would like them to have a lot pf passionate love and find a talisman that transport them somehow in knowledge of each other...