The Tradesman's Entrance

*****"Author's note*****

Ever wondered how many women take it up the butt? Join sweet innocent Clara as she learns why pretty much everyone she knows walks like it's leg day at the gym. Will she give in to temptation and give it a go?

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THE REVEALING RIDE

Clara was raised in an affluent family in the Welsh Marches. Her family, although not nobility, could easily be mistaken as such. Neither parent worked in the traditional sense relying on a combination of inherited wealth, stocks and property investments for income. Her home was a modest manor house surrounded by fields they let to neighbouring tenant farmers.

Clara had not long turned 18 and with it found herself being more accepted into the adult world. She sensed her opinions were listened to more and she was treated with more respect. Her sisters, Rose and Pippa were 20 and 22 respectively and still lived at the manor. All three sisters were close but she still felt the little sister to some extent.

It was a glorious autumn morning. The stableboy had prepared the horses for their Sunday ride which as usual was to end at Mrs Corfield's teashop by the canal. Despite just having breakfast the girls were looking forward to the selection of pastries on offer. The horses didn't need any direction and were overly eager to get there for their own special treat.

They arrived to see an old friend's horse tethered by the canal and immediately scanned the garden to find her. She spotted them first and waved them over.

"Morning," she said, "Not seen you three for a while."

"How was the holiday?" asked Rose, "I see you've caught the sun."

"Lucky I didn't catch anything else when I was there," she replied with a smile and raised eyebrow.

"Food not up to standard?" replied Clara, " It can be an issue in some of those countries"

The girl's giggles told her she wasn't referring to the hotel's questionable hygiene standards.

"Let's just say it wasn't just the biryani that left me a bit loose."

Rose and Pippa smiled knowingly before glancing with a smirk at Clara's bemused face. "I didn't know those people were equipped to stretch one's horizons," replied Pippa just as the waitress arrived to take their order.

"One of the bar staff came well-recommended and didn't disappoint."

"They often keep one on staff to make holidays memorable don't they?" replied Rose.

"Bit reluctant at first, don't usually with men of that age but mother insisted, you know how persuasive she can be."

Pippa laughed, "I bet it didn't take hours of negotiation."

"She's not easily impressed, so when she gives the nod you know it's worth it."

"Can be a bit hit and miss, never hurts to get a recommendation," said Rose.

"Well, Rory better not miss tonight," chipped in Pippa.

Clara didn't say anything, she was at the table but felt she was looking in rather than part of the group. Several petite cakes consumed the girls remounted their horses for the trek home.

A WINDOW INTO ANOTHER WORLD

Nothing more was said of the meeting, nor did Rory appear. The only Rory that Clara knew was a local middle-aged handyman who occasionally did repairs around the house but he was nowhere to be seen nor was his name mentioned that evening as the family chatted in the drawing room.

It was after midnight as Clara lay in bed that she heard the clink of the side door to the patio. It wasn't unusual to hear it at night and normally she'd think nothing of it. But tonight something told her it wasn't just her mother putting the cat out. A few moments later soft footsteps passed her door followed by the click of Pippa's door.

She hadn't heard Pippa leave her room, perhaps it was Rose but she had a certain skip to her footstep. "Rory?" she thought, no can't be possible, Pippa did not date down. She strained her ear to see if she could hear voices but only heard silence. Perhaps it was just her imagination but it was bugging her.

Clara remembered how as children they'd lean out of their windows at night to chat room to room when they should be sleeping. Pippa always kept her window ajar, perhaps if she popped her head out of hers she might hear something. A distant car, a disgruntled cow mooing and a goose that was clearly not happy with something but nothing from her sister's room

She was about to return to bed when she heard it. It was the noise you make when you jump into freezing cold water. An audible sharp intake of breath followed by short rapid panting then silence once more. Perhaps Pippa had just found a spider in her bed, she always was the drama queen.

Then all doubts were laid to rest, soft gasps interspersed with the gentlest of moans drifted from Pippa's window. It was not the solo of a girl self-pleasuring but a hushed duet.

Clara knew her sister was not without experience of men. She had dated a few and spent nights away from home, it didn't take Sherlock to deduce why. But Clara had never heard the sounds of lovemaking for herself. She knew it was wrong but she strained further to catch each note that drifted her way. It was slow and steady with the tone a struggle yet one that was enjoyable and welcome.

It reminded her of the puffing and panting at the gym when your instructor pushes you for those last few reps, the ones you think you can't do yet somehow manage to squeeze out with encouragement. Then one word, a man's voice with a distinct Yorkshire accent confirmed it, it was definitely Rory. This wasn't some well-heeled 20-something it was a man twice her age who fixed squeaky floorboards.

Yet right now, a girl who would turn her nose up at Cava was enjoying sex with a man who probably had his arm down a toilet a few hours ago. A muffled female cry was easy to interpret, Clara had made the same sound herself while nocturnally exploring alone. It subsided and the panting increased until a low manly grunt punctuated the night air.

Show over Clara returned to bed, her head swirling with the shock of what she just heard. She herself was aching below and under normal circumstances would deal with it in the usual manner but tonight she feared being heard and let it pass.

DOES YOUR MOTHER KNOW?

Morning came and when Clara sat at the breakfast table Rory was nowhere to be seen. She wasn't surprised, her father would have gone ballistic and 20 or not would have tanned her bottom before chasing Rory all the way back to Yorkshire.

"You have a good night's sleep?" asked her mother looking at Pippa. It was a strange question for her to ask.

"Very good, I could do with another one."

The girls had planned to shop for grandmother's upcoming birthday that day. It was an hour's drive to anywhere with decent shops. It wasn't long into the journey that Rose brought up the topic of Rory.

"So was it a hit or a miss?"

"Definitely a hit, a big hit."

"What was a hit?" asked Clara. She knew the answers but wanted to play dumb.

Rose and Pippa quickly looked at each other but said nothing. It was as if a child had stumbled into a forbidden conversation. Clara was no child, she decided to stir the pot.

"What happened to Rory? You mentioned him yesterday morning. I forgot to tell Father he was popping around."

"You tell him nothing," snapped Pippa.

"No, seriously. Anything you heard in the teashop you don't mention to anyone," added Rose. Clara didn't reply.

"You did understand what Penelope was on about don't you?"

Clara shook her head, "Not really. I kind of guessed she went with a guy on holiday."

Rose let out a sigh, "Sort of, look this goes no further. She had anal sex with one of the bartenders. "

"Anal?"

"Yes anal. It goes on a lot," replied Rose.

"She doesn't seem that sort."

"That sort? Trust me it's far more our sort that does it," replied Pippa, "Rory rode me last night but for fucksake that goes no further."

"Rory the handyman had anal with you?"

"He's visited the house a few times as have others," replied Rose, "And yes Mother knows."

"Mother?" blurted Clara, "She knows about last night?"

"Mother's been doing him for months, He had Rose last week and me last night," replied Pippa.

Clara couldn't believe it, "But he's old he's in his forties."

"But he's hung and damn good," smiled Rose, "isn't he?"

"God yes, I felt wrecked afterwards."

"But Mother's married," added Clara.

"Hence why he uses the tradesman's entrance, answered Pippin.

"And she's OK with you two, you know?"

"Her idea, she was the one who got us started with Timothy, answered Rose.

"Timothy, the man who used to work for the Jacksons who brought us eggs?"

"Not all he gave us," replied Rose, "Pippa caught them at it in the stables."

"Don't know which of us was more shocked at the time. But a few hours later we had a long chat and a couple of days later I was in bed with Timothy, A month later he took Rose."

"Rose was practically begging for it."

"No, I wasn't."

"You were totally smitten by the guy, couldn't keep your eyes off him. When Mother suggested you spend the night with him you couldn't wait."

"He was cute though."

"Can't argue there, good body too and a great kisser."

"Took my breath away, concentrating so much on his tongue I barely noticed him taking aim below. God then when he entered me."

"Does it hurt? Asked Clara.

"No, but it makes you squirm, bit of a shock when it first happens, replied Rose.

"I think I'd be too scared."

"Trust me everyone is, it's weird your a bundle of nerves but you kind of surrender to what's coming," replied Pippa, "When the head touches your hole your blood runs cold. A moment of mild discomfort and you're lying there with a dick in you."

"She's right, you want it but you don't, but you kinda get swept along and next thing you're at one with him. You cling on and take your medicine."

"Wouldn't suggest Rory though, that medicine comes a big spoon. We can fix you up with Hank if you want," said Pippa.

Clara couldn't decide if they were serious or just winding her up, "I'll take a rain check."

"If you don't believe us check on Mother when she visits the stables tomorrow morning to check on the horses. Ever wonder why she goes every Tuesday at the same time?"

HAY O AWAY WE GO

Mother's morning routine was the same as all others. She cleared the breakfast table as her husband read the papers and ranted about the government's incompetence as usual. She remained her usual calm composure reminding the girls they had promised to help her later with her charity work.

She looked at the grandfather clock, "I better go have the weekly meeting with the stableboy." With that, she quietly left. Pippa glanced at Clara with a knowing look.

Clara let another five minutes pass before heading outside. She was supposed to be doing her morning chores but they could wait. Remembering to walk on the verge rather than the noisy gravel path she stealthily approached the side of the stables where Rose had told her of a convenient knothole. She told herself it was to prove her sisters wrong. She'd see nothing bar an innocent conversation about hay and her mother asking if he needed any supplies. She would return to her giggling sisters the butt of their little joke.

The stableboy was the son of a local storekeeper, he wasn't the brightest button but a good lad of 19 years who worked part-time for the family since leaving school three years ago. Employing him was as much an act of charity as a need for a stableboy. He'd be a good catch for a girl not fussed about potential in a man and just looking to settle for a kind boyfriend.

Clara peeked through the knothole, it was funny how obvious you felt looking through a hole as if there was a big arrow at the other side drawing attention to your eyeball. Her mother was thankfully facing the other way and chatting about replacing a fork with a damaged tine.

All looked innocent until she cast a tartan horse blanket over a stack of square hay bales and leaned over. The stableboy looked at the door as if to check it was bolted then dropped his pants. Clara was mortified, how could her sisters have let this go on? He took a dollop of veterinary lubricant from a one-litre tub and smeared it over his erection before flicking the excess off his fingers.

It was the first time Clara had seen a penis, it did not look like the stylised drawings in her biology lessons. Father had always kept a close eye on the house's internet history file so none of the girls ever dared venture onto inappropriate sites. She even had to ask him to disable the parental controls for a wildlife website that was blocked thanks to the word bluetits.

He got behind her mother and folded her skirt up over her lower back before taking position behind. Clara did not have a clear view of what hole he was aiming for but the fact he had lubed up left little room for doubt. Her mother took the penetration in silence doing little more than tighten her fists.

It was not the romantic slow lovemaking of Hollywood, he merely stood behind her and thrust in a simple pendulistic rocking motion. His hands held her waist firmly as he swung his hips driving himself full length in and out. Her mother's face was a mixture of discomfort and pleasure like someone eating a red hot pizza that both delighted and stripped the skin off the roof of your mouth.

Her mother, a high-ranking respected pillar of the community was being dominated by a man few would even employ. A man whose own father was reluctant to let work alone in his shop was ploughing her mother like a cheap whore.

Each thrust induced a look of shock and she seemed to be struggling to endure yet made no stop him, she just remained bent over and took it like it was her duty. It didn't last long, a few moments at most before his legs trembled and face screwed up. Clara knew he was unloading his seed into her mother.

As he withdrew she panted like a satisfied dog that had just caught a rabbit. Then it happened, her eyes met Clara's. It was for the briefest of moments and she couldn't be certain but she froze, scared to even blink less the movement gave her away. She told herself from that distance and in that dappled light, her mother couldn't see her but waited for a yell. It never came. Clara slowly backed off and slinked away.

Clara was very quiet for the rest of the morning. She expected her mother to call for her at any moment but it never happened. Perhaps it was her imagination and she hadn't been spotted. But what if she had? It wasn't her who was in the wrong it was her mother. Rose and Pippa also remained silent on the matter because Father was in earshot.

"CLARA," her mother's voice rang out up the stairs, Clara gulped expecting the worst, "Are you ready to come to the village hall? Can you bring my briefcase down?"

Clara breathed a sigh of relief and set off with her mother. It was only a short drive to the village but alone together she expected the worst. Her heart stopped each time her mother spoke only to be relieved by some minor gossip. Even during the meeting, she expected her mother to suddenly condemn her for spying.

ACCOMPLISED IN ANAL

It wasn't until Wednesday that she had any privacy with her sisters. As predicted they didn't take long to gloat they were right.

"Well then," said Rose, "Did the horses look traumatised or jealous?"

"I can't believe what saw, it was wrong just wrong."

"Aw stop being so sanctimonious, everyone's doing it."

"So why's it being hidden from father?"

"When we say everyone we mean the important people, the ones that count, the women."

Pippa butted in, "I bet she got a good pounding? Mother likes it that way. All men are different, you just pick and choose what you like."

"I wouldn't start off with him though," added Rose, "He's too mechanical, just back and forth like he's sawing wood."

"True, Ok if you just want a guy to own your ass but he lacks finesse," replied Pippa.

"Now Henry, that was a guy who could wiggle his dick. It was like having a maestro wave his baton in your bottom."

Clara was not impressed, "Just how many men have sampled the delights of your derrière?"

"Oh calm down, it's not like we're bending over for Britain. I've only had a dozen," replied Rose.

"A DOZEN?" repeated Clara, "Is that normal?"

"Probably, it's not like anyone keeps records. I'm surprised you haven't been approached. Perhaps if you weren't so uptight all the time."

"You generally keep to the same small circle, perhaps divulge in a stranger or two on holiday or around Christmas," added Pippa.

"I'm surprised your small circle is still small," quipped Clara, "I can't see how anyone could derive pleasure from it."

"It's quite invigorating actually," replied Rose.

"Leaves you with a deep feeling of satisfaction," added Pippa, "It's very liberating to surrender your body to a man."

"How on Earth can surrender be liberating?"

"You really must try it and see, I'll mention it to Mother," replied Rose, "Cousin Charlotte was a sceptic too until she got a good buggering at Christmas."

"Oh yes, I remember that, William certainly changed her point of view," said Pippa with a twinkle, "She wiggled like a piglet the whole time according to Aunt Sophie."

"Very persuasive is William, especially with the help of a few glasses of champagne and Aunt Sophie," said Rose.

"Aunt Sophie? Charlotte's mother? Now I do believe you're having a little fun on my behalf," replied Clara.

The tone of Rose's voice changed, slowing and lowering in volume, "No, seriously. Aunt Sophie is a huge advocate, believes anal to be as important to your well-being as a good diet and exercise."

Clara had come to learn that tone meant Rose was telling the truth, she could never maintain it for more than five words without breaking into a squeaky giggle if she was joking, "And our mother, what's her view?"

"She believes a lady should be accomplished in anal and as free to enjoy it as one would accept the offer of a dance," replied Rose.

"Tell me," asked Pippa, Do you masturbate? I assume you do. "Clara's blush answered the question for her and Pippa continued, "Well I assume during such times, you fantasise about some hot attractive man laying upon you, taking his pleasure. About yielding your body to his manliness. That's all anal is."

Her sister's words and the image of her mother played on Clara's mind for several days. How could their father not know? Perhaps he did but chose to hide his knowledge for reasons only known to him. If anal was as commonplace as made out to be then surely he'd be both aware and part of it. Perhaps what struck Clara the most was just how comfortable some women seem to be, welcoming men into their asses with the same relaxed nature you'd invite an old friend in for coffee.

CORNISH CREAM

Friday night arrived and the family were hosting the Pykes, who had travelled up from Cornwall for the weekend. They were longstanding friends whose relationship with Clara's parents stretched back long before she was born to their school days. Like Clara's father, Thomas Pyke was nearly 50 but had a more rustic beaten appearance than her father's country gent look. His wife Margaret gave the impression of woman who spent her entire life baking scones and organizing church raffles.

Things progressed as would be expected, the two families visited local attractions, browsed the shops and dined out. It was somewhat tiring for the sisters to be tied to the old people as they poked around cluttered antique shops and historic sites they'd seen a million times before.

In the evenings they'd while away the hours in front of the drawing room fire reminiscing about old times as the girls practiced the art of looking interested. Upon the second night, over the second bottle of port, the mother raised a question with Margaret.

"Do you ever collect the wild buckthorn along the cornish coast I've read it makes an interesting gin?"