In Susan "Suz" Strasburger’s living room, a white teddy bear dressed in a red sweatshirt with "hug me" written on it reaches out its arms. But for most adults, the need for a hug is much more difficult to express. That’s why Strasburger decided to become a Cuddle Party facilitator.

Every other week or so, 10 to 30 adults in pajamas gather in Strasburger’s house in Emeryville. Thin foam mattresses, pillows and blankets cover the floor all the way up to the teddy bears in front of the fireplace. For about three and a half hours, guests who paid $30 can cuddle, hug, create puppy piles, spoon or just talk.

Relationship counselors Reid Mihalko and Marcia Baczynski started Cuddle Parties in New York last year. Mihalko came up with the idea when he realized many adults suffer from a lack of physical contact. He developed the parties together with Baczynski, a guest at his second party. The idea exploded. Soon the counselors decided to train facilitators to hold parties around the nation. Today, the events take place in cities as varied as Philadelphia, Montgomery, Ala. and Seattle. They are as much social workshop as they are cuddle feasts, teaching adults communication skills such as how to say no, how to deal with fear of rejection and how to ask for what they want.

"If you are shy, cuddle parties are a great way to practice that. If you have a fear of rejection, they are a great place to practice as well," Mihalko says.

The events begin with a welcome circle, where facilitators and cuddle lifeguards, or assistants, go over 15 rules. One part of the rules focus on the right to say no: partygoers may choose not to cuddle, can’t touch anyone without permission and can change their minds anytime. The rules are also clear on the nonsexual theme of the parties: sex is prohibited, as is revealing lingerie and dry humping.

"Because it’s an explicitly nonsexual place, people feel comfortable in situations they wouldn’t otherwise," says Mark Hoemmen, a 25-year-old math graduate student at UC Berkeley who has been to three cuddle parties in Emeryville.

The parties continue with an exercise to practice how to deal with rejection, as well as the right way to reject someone. Participants turn to another person and ask for something, usually a kiss, and the other person has to say no.

After the welcome circle, freestyle cuddling begins. Guests ask each other for hugs, back rubs or other touches. Each party is different. Some lead to big puppy piles or lines of people spooning while others result in more chatting than cuddling.

Hoemmen came to his first party because he felt a need for more physical affection in his life. "I’m a cuddling person. I like to form close bonds with people. I like to cuddle, but I don’t usually get enough of it," he says.

Hoemmen was nervous before his first cuddle party, not knowing what to expect. The ice was broken when another man came over to him and asked if they could cuddle. Hoemmen says, as a heterosexual man, he would have felt uncomfortable in another situation, but the nonsexual theme of the party made him feel relaxed lying down holding a stranger.

Deborah*, 44, decided to go to cuddle parties because her disability, fibromyalgia, a chronic disorder resulting in pain and fatigue, has lead to increasing isolation from society. After she developed the syndrome 15 years ago, she started to withdraw from the community activism she used to participate in, resulting in increased isolation. She has been to two parties, partly because of the need to break her isolation, partly because she has always taken care of others, whether in the role of a mother or an activist, and she needed some pampering herself.

"The cuddle parties appealed to me because it seemed like a place where I could get a bit more physical attention, get a little bit touched," Deborah says.

During her latest visit in the middle of November, Deborah was clear about what she wanted. In the welcome circle, she told the other participants about her need to be pampered and that she really enjoys when someone brushes her hair. Almost immediately after the welcome circle, a woman approached Deborah, sat down behind her and started brushing her hair softly.

"I felt really rejuvenated. It was exactly what I needed," says Deborah, who had gone through a few stressful weeks before the party. "It’s up there with things like meditation and yoga. It’s very healing."

Cuddle lifeguard Violet Burleson, who assists Strasburger in organizing the parties, says the healing effect of touch is one main reason the events have been so successful.

"We’re mammals, we’re social animals, and touch is so important. It triggers hormone release in the brain," Burleson says.

The hormone Burleson is talking about is oxytocin, which is produced in the brain and released into the bloodstream during childbirth, breastfeeding, sexual arousal and physical touch. Organizers of the party agree that most Americans need more touch in their life, for physical reasons as well as psychological.

"It’s getting worse and worse with the industrialization of so many countries," Mihalko says. "People are waiting longer to get married, they are moving away from home. It’s happening all over the planet that people are getting touched less."

Hoemmen agrees. He says that as a man it’s even harder to express a need for physical affection. "There’s a real bias against men showing any kind of physical affection to each other," he says.

Besides the lack of touch in general, another problem is that touch is increasingly associated with sex, Mihalko says. He believes the options for single people just looking for some cuddling are few, especially for people not in romantic relationships.

"People end up getting their needs met in other ways, usually sexual. Touch in itself has become sexualized. You don’t pick somebody up for a one-night cuddle; you have to pick someone up for a one-night stand," Mihalko says.

Cuddle party organizers agree there is nothing wrong with sexual touches, but that humans need, and often want, nonsexual touches as well. "I’m all for sex too, just not at cuddle parties," Strasburger says.