Michael Auslen

Michael.Auslen@Indystar.com

Lisa Kelly turned on the radio to set the mood.

As Tom Petty's new song "U Get Me High" played through the room, she lay on the bed and got down to business.

Facedown on top of her client's back, she gently stroked his arm. Their legs and feet intertwined.

She whispered in his ear.

"You may have to come over once a month," she said.

The client was Dan Haris, an old friend of Kelly's who wanted to try out her new business.

The business is Indy Cuddles, and it's pretty much what it sounds like. For a small fee — $35 for half an hour, $60 for an hour — Kelly will come to your home and snuggle with you.

Armed with knowledge from an illustrated book of cuddling positions, basic website design skills and a passion for human touch, Kelly started the business this fall. Since then, she has received the accompanying comments from interested clients. As well as detractors.

She has been called names, told that what she does is just a step above prostitution. One person called her an embarrassment to her family.

But when Kelly talks about Indy Cuddles, she is quick to discredit her critics.

"It's not sexual at all," she said. "It's something for people who feel alone or stressed out or in pain for whatever reason, lonely."

Kelly is one of a growing number of entrepreneurs seizing what they see as an opportunity to cash in on cuddling.

Backed by science that confirms the health benefits of human touch, they have developed apps, written books and started in-home services. Turning a profit, however, will hinge on a steady stream of customers who are accepting of the practice.

Kelly hopes Indianapolis is full of those people. Her livelihood is riding on it.

Cuddling entrepreneurs

The idea behind this budding industry is a straightforward one: There are always lonely people out there.

Scientific research has shown there are health benefits to be gained from physical contact with other humans.

Researchers from Emory University found in 1999 that gentle touching reduces the physical signs of stress and tension. Depauw University's Touch and Emotion Lab has found that touching skin helps people develop closer bonds, particularly in infants.

Even a brief hug or touch on the shoulder, for example, can reduce stress-causing cortisol in the body and release oxytocin, a hormone that promotes social bonding, associate professor Matthew Hertenstein of the Depauw lab wrote in a 2009 op-ed in Rhode Island's Providence Journal.

Despite the scientific backing, snuggling as a business enterprise requires acceptance.

Technology has helped people gain that, Kelly said. Much of her business has come through social media from people who share Indy Cuddles with their Facebook friends and Twitter followers.

"So much has changed with technology," Kelly said. "It seems like technology is helping to make these things more normal."

Indy Cuddles was inspired by Cuddle Up to Me, started in June in Portland, Ore., by Samantha Hess. Dozens of similar businesses have opened nationwide.

The business model relies largely on return customers, Hess said. She said her average client comes back once or twice per month.

Around the same time Indy Cuddles was being born, a team of developers was working on a smart phone app for people who wanted to find local cuddle buddies. Inspired by dating and hookup apps like Tinder and Grindr, they launched Cuddlr.

"What about when you're not looking for something that serious, or you want to take things slower, or maybe you just want a hug?" Cuddlr's U.K.-based founder Charlie Williams told the Star. "There's a need for that."

Since launching, Cuddlr has had more than 200,000 downloads, Williams said. It's also attracted its fair share of criticism from people who say the people they have been matched with were dangerous or that the app put them at risk.

Kelly said she takes steps to avoid those risks.

Cuddle up with Kelly

Every new client relationship starts the same way: a meeting in a public place, like a bar or cafe, somewhere both parties can feel safe.

That is where people first get to know Kelly, the professional cuddler.

The first meeting is when she decides if moving forward feels safe. Is the new client creepy? Does he expect anything other than a totally platonic cuddle session?

It's also when Kelly asks each client to sign a waiver, 14 rules that she says keep things comfortable and safe.

Among the rules: "Cleanliness and adequate hygiene is required by both parties" and "Both parties will remain fully clothed, and hands will remain outside of the clothing at all times."

If problems arise, Kelly said she might add to the contract. So far, she has taken lessons learned by other professional cuddlers as a starting point.

Kelly has no formal training other than Hess's book and about a month of experience. Her degrees, both from Indiana University-Purdue University Indianapolis, are in English and religious studies.

Nevertheless, she said, the business has felt natural to her.

"I have always been a touchy-feely person, always," Kelly said. "I'm 40, and when my dad comes home for Christmas, I sit on his lap. That's just how my family is."

Most cuddle sessions start on the couch, she said. Kelly asks about how people feel, how their week has been.

"Part of my job is listening," she said. "I am forming some kind of relationship with these folks."

With a first-time client, she starts simple. She might lie face-down next to the client with one leg over his and her hand free to scratch his back.

As both people get comfortable, she brings out more interesting configurations. The positions have names like "Mama Bear, Papa Bear" and "Blooming Lotus."

Most of her clients are men in their 30s and 40s. Like her, most are unmarried. Many are divorced.

That is whom this service really appeals to, she said. It helps people who don't have someone they can snuggle up next to at home.

"Maybe before, people thought, 'I'm lonely, so what? I'll deal with it,'" she said. "Now they know they don't have to."

A fresh direction

Dan Haris met Kelly when she was active in politics. During the 2008 presidential campaign she started Redheads for Ron Paul, an online community of carrot-topped libertarians. She ran for lieutenant governor on the Libertarian ticket that year, too.

In the years since, her passion for politics has turned to apathy.

Her grandmother, who Kelly had been taking care of, died in 2009. She worked in nonprofits, most recently at Bosma Enterprises until about 10 months ago. This year, she had a bad breakup that ended a five-year relationship.

Finally, Kelly felt it was time to do something new.

"It just became essential for me to pick myself up, pick a direction, find passion for something," she said. "I've been looking and looking and looking. It hasn't been anything until it became this business."

The goal is for the cuddling business to grow. She already has hired another cuddler as a contractor: a man who she hopes can attract female clients.

Gaining momentum can be tough. As with any new business, steep obstacles need to be overcome. Hess said she has seen plenty of cuddlers fail.

Lying on top of Haris in her go-to position, called "The Cloak," Kelly's focus is on the routine she is developing as a cuddler who is still new to the trade. She rubs Haris' back and asks about his family, his mother's health, the drive from Ohio.

"It's hard to be this close to someone and be passive," he said. "I feel right at home."

Kelly thanked him.

Call Star reporter Michael Auslen at (317) 444-6077. Follow him on Twitter: @MichaelAuslen.

Want to cuddle?

Contact Lisa Kelly or her other cuddlers and set up a session at indycuddles.com.