Chapter 1

Mart Tranter was an odd-jobbing chancer who scraped a living through the few jobs he held down, he lived on his wits and charmed himself into situations; he liked short-term tenancies as he believed the change of outlook to be the best way in life was to move on, and his lowly budget would not entertain a mortgage in this area or any other. It was with relief that he had found the advert in the local paper, as he'd sat with it placed on a table in the middle of the room between bowls on the floor, catching the rainwater which dripped through the ceiling of the dingy garret flat, which had lost any novelty it once had. His landlady, who had allowed him to delay his rent on occasion, for small favours granted, was getting a little too intimate; he having shared the warmth of his body with her on too many occasions, now was the time to depart. He now found himself at the door of a large late Victorian detached house, number 15 Ackerman Street; the diverse colours and styles of curtains at its many windows along with the varying degrees of grime displayed by some panes contrasting with the sheen of others, some with blooming window boxes and others bland, betrayed the communal status of a grand house built originally for a well-to-do family.

Mart puffed himself out and knocked on the part-glazed front door; the deep blue and red harlequin pattern leaded lights, helping the house to retain a little of its former glory; an inner door opened from the ground floor flat, and a prim and shapely woman of about forty-five, brunette hair tied in a bun, smiled softly over glasses that could have belonged to a teacher. She looked him up and down with interest. He gaped for a moment and then responded as she lifted her nose in expectation of an introduction.

"Hi, I'm Mart Tranter ... I've come about the flat." Her eyes seemed to ignite, and she pulled the door wide; Mart felt as though he were being sucked in, almost before she had acknowledged him.

"Oh please do come in; I'm Melanie Hart, this is my house, we spoke on the phone, I'll just get the keys." Mart stepped in and watched her tight-waisted form strut into her flat, his cock stirring slightly; mature women always attracted him, especially single ones. He stepped forward and nosed into her tidy residence; the decor had a distincly feminine feel, the scent devoid of masculinity; promising. He stepped back and glanced up at the polished bannister above the stairs as he heard her jingling the keys; attempting to hide any personal interest in her. She emerged with the keys but minus her age-increasing glasses, and without the small cardigan she had answered the door in. She smiled warmly as she held the keys up and dangled them in front of her trim breasts, drawing his eyes to a subtle view of the cleavage shown by the top two undone buttons of her blouse. She quickly dropped her hand, and strutted to the stairs; like a gentleman, he let her lead the way, which she did without hesitation, and his cock swelled as he watched her long mature legs and pert bottom ascend gracefully two steps above him. Several flights were not long enough for him, and he was almost disapointed when she turned off to a door, leaving a further flight untouched. She turned the key and showed him in; though a bedsit, it was a veritable palace compared to what he'd left. Cleanly decorated and with a comfortable bed close to a large window which overlooked her garden, there was a shower cubicle in one corner, and plenty of space for the meagre belongings he had yet to retrieve from the dingy garret. Melanie leaned back against the door pillar and crossed her arms.

"Well, what do you think?" Her sultry tone had him thinking of all sorts of possibilities, but he answered her immediate concern.

"It's great ... I'll take it." He fumbled with his wallet and as he fingered the worn notes, she smiled at his enthusiam to secure the let.

"I normally ask for a month's rent plus a further month as a deposit, but I think I can trust you; just give me the month for now, you said on the phone you can turn your hand to most things? I may have a few odd jobs for you; my garden needs a little tlc, and some of my more picky tenants are always finding things that need attention. You just settle in, and give me a knock when you're ready; call outs for plumbers and decorators can be so expensive." Mart was more than pleased at this opportunity to perhaps reduce his rental in kind, and it ensured contact with this shapely lady, who grew more attractive by the minute. She handed him the key, and he followed her out; eager to retrieve his things and disappear from his old address immediately. As they descended the stairs to the ground floor, she smiled warmly at him as a wiry man entered the front door and wheeled his bicycle through.

"Hi Melanie! and errr..." Melanie gave him a nonchalant look.

"Hello Ben; this is Mart, he's just taken flat 5. Mart, this is Ben Parker, he's in flat 2." She smiled at Mart before approaching her door; before she went in, she bent to pick up some junk mail envelopes, keeping her legs as straight as possible and displaying her firm round arse as her skirt tightened. As she disappeared into her flat, Ben smiled as he'd noticed Mart's eyes on her.

"You've more chance of getting a wank off the Pope." Mart wasn't so sure; he grinned at the wiry man with scruffy hair and ill fitting grey trousers held up with bicycle clips, anorak and worn out hush-puppies completing the picture; he could see why not too many women would give him a second glance. He changed the conversation.

"Lived here long mate?" The scruffy but amiable Ben opened his door, almost opposite Melanie's and pushed his sixties style thin-wheeled racer inside.

"I've been here about three years; handy for the locals schools, I'm a supply teacher, history and geography. It's not a bad place, despite the quick turnover of some tenants; we're a diverse mix, there's a couple of executive types up one flight, that's where the two largest flats are. Eight flats in all." His banter was cut short as the door opened, and Mart's interest was aroused again as a pretty red-lipped woman of about forty bustled in with a shy smile, wearing a short shiny plastic mac, long legs and spiky ankle boots. Ben gave her a gaumless smile and addressed her in a teacher-like tone.

"Hello Irene, had a good day have we?" She screwed her lips and glanced at Mart with wide eyes and a soft smile, as she squeaked by up the stairs in her glossy mac.

"Just as boring as ever Ben. But I'm ever hopeful." Mart wondered if her statement was actually a description of Ben, rather than a reflection on the day; either way, 66.6% of the tenants he'd seen so far were most interesting. He shook hands with ben and left for his previous residence, hoping to get in and out quickly before the amorous Wendy, his chubby and fifty-something ex-landlady returned from her day job and made things difficult. Jangling his new keys, he made haste.

As Mart hurriedly stuffed the last objects into a rucksack, his suitcase already full, he heard the front door bump shut downstairs through the open door of the garret. He remained silent and held his breath. Wendy looked up the gap between the bannisters and saw the light from the garret window; she knew he was leaving, but he owed her rent, she knew he had little money so he would pay her in kind. She smiled as she locked the front door from the inside, and quietly opened her flat door, stripping her clothes off rapidly. Mart peeped out onto the creaking floorboards and looked down; did he imagine he noise? Had it been another tenant entering or leaving? He sighed with relief at the continuing silence, swung the rucksack over his shoulder and lifted the case. On reaching the ground floor, he pushed the keys under Wendy's door with a pang of regret; he enjoyed the games she played which led up to him fucking her, but he was concious that he was beginning to like it too much and she was not the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Wendy grinned as she watched the keys slide under the door toward her, the nipples on her large floppy breasts erected as she heard him move toward the door and try the handle. Mart pulled at the door in disbelief, he heard a sound behind him and his balls tingled.