Helga's Red Thigh Boots
By Adam Mann
()
About this ebook
A Canadian journalist, aka Fred, finds a place to stay with a lady, aka Hufflepuff, and her adult son in Rotterdam. His work involves research into climate change problems! At first it is very comfortable until the landlady develops mid-life shivering fits in the presence of the journalist. The shivering is prelude to several passionate encounters! When the journalist is recalled to Canada he takes his landlady with him...
Adam Mann
Adam Mann has lived and worked in Africa and then Asia for many years. He has always been fascinated by personal relationships, and in real life is now enjoying his fourth marriage, after being widowed, divorced, and even had a marriage annulled as this ‘wife’ had forgotten to get divorced.As a result he has extensive experience of social and sexual activities, which he brings into his books in explicit detail. Underlying all these activities is a quest for a loving and ongoing relationship with his partner.Adam Mann is a pen name.
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Helga's Red Thigh Boots - Adam Mann
Butterfly Books
Helga’s Red Thigh Boots
By Adam Mann
© Adam Mann, 2014
Revised and edited in January 2021.
Adam Mann has asserted his rights as author of this novel.
ISBN: 9781310029516
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
‘Pubic hair is there for a reason
That is evident in the cold season:
For the balls it’s a muff,
For the rod it’s a ruff,
And it keeps the vagina from freezing’.
Helga
Can I help you?
asked a voice in English.
I looked down, I had to, the lady speaking to me was at least ten inches shorter than me, and my first impression from above was tidy blonde curls, and a neat tiny frame.
I’m looking for somewhere to stay,
I replied.
Bed and Breakfast?
she asked.
No, I need somewhere for three or four months,
I replied looking at a series of postcards pinned to a notice board in a shop window.
What is your job?
she asked, not an unreasonable question.
I’m a sort of journalist,
I replied.
What do you report on?
Right now I’m doing research on climate change,
I was telling the truth.
I’ve got a room that you can have,
she volunteered, would you like to look at it?
I took a step backwards to look at her.
My name’s Helga,
she volunteered again, and held out her hand, so I took it and we shook hands.
My name’s Joseph,
I said.
I looked at Helga again. She was just over five feet tall, and slim. She had brown eyes with a hint of green, which I discovered later but which I could not see just then. Her blonde curls were darker than I first thought, and she wore just a T-shirt and shorts, and wooden flip-flops with small heels on her feet. It was September in Holland and still warm from the summer.
Is it far from here,
I wondered.
About two hundred metres. Is that too far?
I shook my head; Can I see the room?
Follow me,
she invited and set off along the street.
I followed, as I was told, dragging behind me my suitcase on wheels, and my laptop strapped to the top of it.
We turned right after about one hundred metres, and she stopped at a house about another hundred metres along the road.
This is my house,
she said looking at a square two story house very similar to the houses either side of it. It appeared to have been constructed from pre-formed cement panels, bolted together, Come in!
She climbed some steps, and opened a large wooden door. Inside was a small cloak room, with hooks for coats on one side, leading to another wooden door with a glass window set into the top half of the door.
She opened this second door and there was one expansive single room in front of us. An open plan kitchen and dining area was at the far end, and the rest was a sitting room with four huge chairs. To one side and starting near to the front door was an open plan staircase to the first floor.
This is where I live,
said Helga, and added, Would you like tea of coffee?
Tea would be marvellous, please,
Sit down and I’ll show you the room in a minute,
I did as I was told and the chair I sat in was indeed huge and very comfortable, but I managed not to get swallowed up and looked around.
There was a large double window facing the road in the front of the house, and several smaller windows in the kitchen wall facing the back.
The tea was very welcome and I did not waste any time drinking it.
Another?
and I shook my head.
Come and see the room!
I followed Helga upstairs, dragging my suitcase behind me. There was a corridor at the top and she stopped at the first door.
This is Michael’s room,
and she opened the door.
The room was at the back of the house on top of the kitchen area with a double window facing some gardens behind the house. The room was cluttered with toys, model aircraft and a table with a computer screen on it. There was a double bed neatly made up but without any clutter.
Who’s Michael?
My son. He’s twenty now and at college,
She shut the door and walked towards the front of the house, and opened the second door on the corridor.
This is your room,
she said as she opened the door.
What a change! This room was neat and tidy and very feminine. There were fitted cupboards in one wall and a free standing wardrobe next to another double bed. There were two double glazed picture windows facing the road.
I’ll move my things to Michael’s room,
and she smiled, that will be easier than moving Michael’s thing here!
Use this wardrobe,
she commanded, and opened the door. The wardrobe was empty. I wheeled my suitcase across the room.
Come down and tell me all about yourself,
she said and left the room