"Just you and me," she had said. "Naked and very intimate," she had said. And I like a fool had believed her.
I had followed Susan into the bathroom of our hotel suite in the expectation of some 'Husband and Wife' fun like gullible cuckold that I am, only to have my amorous expectations quashed when she produced a small pair of scissors and a 'lady's razor' from out of the cupboard.
"What's going on Sue?" I asked - now a little worried.
"Preparations David! Preparations!"
"What kind of preparations?"
"You need to take your swimming shorts off first and then I will tell you."
I untied the drawstring, let the shorts fall to the floor and stepped out of them just as Susan slipped her bikini bra off and lowered the damp bottoms to the floor. My Wife was a picture of beauty standing before me and if I am honest, I was not that good to look at in the nude; nevertheless my 'little man' stood up to be noticed.
Susan's body has always had that affect on me. Her beautiful face, soft round breasts and the delicate little cluster of dark blond hair, including its small dark birthmark hidden away underneath, on her mons pubis (mound) was everything a man could want. Which reminded me that that these were the reasons another man, Raoul, was just as appreciative.
"Right!" exclaimed Susan, "let's get started." And handing me the scissors she told me to step into the shower cubicle and start trimming down my pubic hairs.
"Make sure that you don't cut yourself David and prune it all down so short that it won't pull when I shave you," she said as she started to work my shaving brush into some hot water and soap to bring up a warm luxurious lather.
"You're going to do what?" I asked as I obeyed her command by starting to snip away at the hairs around my now shrunken penis.
"You are first Dear," she replied, "and then you can help me do the same."
"Why?"
"The Natural Order requires it David. And you and I have made that commitment."
"Have we?"
"You know we have," she replied as she knelt before me brandishing the lather loaded brush and her wet lady shaver. "Now hold still while I get you all tidied up and ready for the evening ahead."
I was surprised that Susan handled the removal of all of my 'manly' hairs in a very quick and efficient manner, and before very long I was standing before my Wife feeling more naked than I had ever felt in my life. Her deftness at moving my small penis around as she expertly shaved away my own bush made me suspect that she had done this before; nevertheless my little penis no longer had its shelter of matted hair, but now stood out like a small pink cotton reel from my equally pink groin.
"There!" Susan exclaimed. "That will do for tonight, but we shall do a better job of it in the future."
"You've done this before. Haven't you," I said as she stepped into the shower cubicle with me.
"A long time ago Dear. At college," she replied as she started cutting away the longer hairs from her downy bush.
Susan handed me the brush, now loaded with lather, and said, "Now work those soap suds onto my mound David and get me ready for our Master's approval."
With my eyes level with her downy pubic mound I was struck by the beauty of her soft and damp sex, and I will admit to choking back a tear in the realisation that Raoul had enjoyed that lovely part of her body. And was soon going to enjoy it again.
'You need to get used to it David,' I thought, as I rubbed the soapy lather onto her mound, 'preparing your Wife for another man seems to be your future cuckold. So if you are going to do it - do it well.'
Susan wanted to talk - I could tell; and I was not surprised when she started to tell me about her time at college.
"When we met again after college I was not completely honest with you," she said as she opened her legs to give me a wider area to lather.
"You didn't tell me you were 'Black Owned' if that's what you mean," I responded as I reached for the wet lady razor in preparation for Susan's shaving.
"Yes I am sorry for that. But how would you have reacted to me telling you that I had a Black Master and I had been his Mistress?" she asked as I made my first short scrape of the razor down her mound.
"You did say you'd had a Boyfriend," I replied, "and I have always assumed that you and he had been Lovers. So maybe I would have understood, or maybe not, I don't know. But, as I am now finding out, there is a big difference between a Boyfriend and a Black Master, isn't there."
"Yes there is David,......." she stopped in mid speech to consider what she was going to say next. "And I did have a Boyfriend at college."
"You mean Paul."
"No! His name was Simon."
I stopped the downward sweep of the razor just above her birthmark in surprise. 'She had a Boyfriend too?'
"We were on the same course and he used to carry my books for me. We sat together in lectures and we went everywhere together," she said as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
I had shaved almost all of Susan's mound by this time and all that was left was to clear the centre of its lovely down with just one downward careful sweep.
"So you two-timed poor little Simon did you?" I said accusingly.
"This would have been hard for you to understand a few days ago," Susan said, as she patiently waited for me to finish removing her soft hair with my razor, "but this evening, I think you can hear the truth."
"Go on!"
"Simon was a submissive. His previous Girlfriend had cuckolded him with a Black Master and he had found out a few things about himself. In fact he had loved the idea of being the lesser man so nature took its lovely course, I became his Dominatrix and he became my cuckold Boyfriend."
"You were a Dominatrix?" I asked. "That's unbelievable."
"Not bad for a nineteen year old Black Owned Mistress is it," Sue said; clearly proud of her late teenage way of life.
"Did you have sex with him too," I asked, dreading the answer.
"Hell no!" Susan exclaimed. "He was already a fully caged cuckold by the time I took him on as my 'Sub'. All I ever did for his happiness was to trim his little bush occasionally and let him clean me up after Master Paul had finished in me."
"He attended your lovemaking with Paul?"
"Of course. He was our cuckold. He was as much a part of Master and my relationship as we were. We loved him and he loved us."
"And Paul - was he ever jealous?" I asked as I slowly and carefully eased the razor down over Susan's mound to collect just the last few hairs that covered her dark birthmark.
"Jealous? Heavens No! Simon was Paul's Reviver and he was very good at it too."
"So Simon was your Master's cock-sucker, as well as your semen cleaner. Is that it?" I said, wanting to hear more about my Wife's little love trio.
"That's such an ugly way of putting it David," Sue said in a gentle reprimand of my crude language, "Simon saw it as an honour to revive and pleasure his Master. Just as Clare's hubby does for his Master - Marcus."
"I think I understand. But what happened to Simon and Paul after you graduated?" I asked.
"A girl from Stevenage called Rebecca took my place as Paul's Mistress and Simon stayed on as their Submissive. I was told that Simon studied for a Doctorate and then married her when she graduated; the last I heard was that Rebecca had a new Black Lover and they were both very happy in their cuckold marriage."
"Well as long as everybody is happy," I remarked noncommitally as I delicately eased the razor down over the birthmark on her mound. It was the last part of her soft down and I wanted to be careful not to cut her.
"They are," Susan confirmed, "and we still get Christmas Cards from them."
"Oh THAT Rebecca and Simon!" I exclaimed looking up thus taking my gaze away from Sue's mound, while still removing the last of her hair, "I often wondered who they are."
"Watch what you are doing David," she said sharply as I looked down again at my handiwork. All of her soft downy hair had been removed, and I caught my breath at what had been revealed.
I remembered Susan's words when I had told her on that first night of our holiday that Clare was married but was making a baby with her Master - Marcus. "I bet there is a nice little ace of spades tattoo somewhere intimate underneath that thin dress she was wearing," she had said, and I hadn't thought too much of it at the time; we had been so tired. But now those words came back to me, because there before me was a small and beautifully made tattoo of the ace of spades; and if I had harboured any doubts as to what she had been telling me, they were gone - I now knew for certain that my Wife had been 'Black Owned'.
"How many times in the past ten years has my nose pressed against that," I said to Susan in that, suddenly very quiet bathroom, "I always thought it was a birthmark hidden away under your bush."
"In a way it is," Susan replied as she ruffled my hair in a gesture of affection.
"What do you mean?"
"Mum was 'Black Owned', so was Grandma and her Mother before her. It's a family thing. Great Grandma Iris lived near the South Coast of England during the war when some Black American troops were stationed nearby. She saw it as her duty to offer comfort to our allies, so when a Sergeant was billeted at her house she showed her appreciation in so many different ways - but mostly in her bed."
"And their husbands?" I asked; dreading the answer.
"Cuckolds all!"
"And they accepted it?"
Susan looked down at me in what I thought to be pity. "Of course they did David. I told you that they had all been selected by our Mothers for suitability - just like you. And it has worked beautifully for decades," she replied, "and Dad, Grandad and Great Grandad have all been very happy in their lives."
"And you think that I will?"
"Of course. And shall I tell you why," Susan replied.
