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4 Guys and Trouble by Marcus Major 
Chapter One
Three years later ... Ibn turned the key and stepped inside his two-story Yardley model house, situated at the end of a cul-de-sac. Ibn had paid to have it custom built three years ago, and had paid plenty for the land too, adding thousands to the cost for its exclusive location. He had wanted it built in Evesham, the land of SUVs, nannies and soccer moms, where all the rich white people lived. He slowly shut the red door behind him and carefully laid his keys on the coffee table so they wouldn't make noise. As he was tiptoeing up the stairs, he caught himself. Why was he acting like a burglar in his own house? Sure, it was late—very late, in fact—but it wasn't like he had been out doing dirt. His boy Dex was going through a rough time and needed his support. What? That's a crime now? And it wasn't like he had to be worried about waking Tiffany up. He knew she would be awake, ready to grill his ass about where he had been. He went into the darkened bedroom. "Hey, Tiff," he said as he unfastened his black Movado watch and set it on the dresser. There was no response, but he knew she was awake because he felt her gaze burrowing two holes through his back. The silent treatment is better than an argument, he figured, and left to go take a shower. He undressed, leaving his clothes in a pile, wrapped a towel around his waist and walked into the bathroom. He looked into the mirror and conducted a quick pose-down, finishing by rapidly flexing his pectoral muscles one at a time. Have I told you lately that you are the man, Ibn Barrington? I haven't? Well, let me apologize for the oversight, but I assumed you already knew. After finishing his reassuring heart-to-heart chat with his image, he turned on the shower. Before he could get in, he heard the bathroom door open. When he turned around, he was facing Tiffany, who looked rather frumpy with her messed-up hair, half-asleep face and old-lady reading glasses. "What?" She didn't answer. She wrapped her arms around his waist and undid his towel, letting it fall to the floor. She knelt down in front of him, resting her knees on the towel. Ibn was thrilled. His girl was ready to accommodate her man with a little three a.m. fellatio. An early-morning appearance of the "Tiffanator." He did wish she would lose the glasses, though; they were a mood killer. He reached down and attempted to take them off, but she stopped him. Oh well, he thought, guess she wants to see what she's doing. He closed his eyes, spread his legs and leaned back against the wall. The second she started massaging his member in her hands, he was as erect as a flagpole. He felt her pulling, shifting, sniffing and probing his entire package, but the warm sensation he was expecting never came. One of two things that wouldn't be coming this early morning apparently, because he slowly realized he wasn't being indulged, he was being inspected. He opened his eyes as Tiffany let go of him and stood up. "Jesus Christ, Tiff." Ibn felt violated. She gave him a nonchalant look, not the least bit ashamed. "My underwear's on the bedroom floor if you'd like to check that, too, Agatha Christie," he said sarcastically. As he stepped into the shower, Ibn was still appalled. Not for the fact that his woman had thought he had been out whoring, but because she didn't think he had the decency to wash his dick off if he had.
4 Guys and Trouble:Part 1 | 4 Guys and Trouble:Part 2 | 4 Guys and Trouble:Part 3 | 4 Guys and Trouble:Part 4 | Order 4 Guys and Trouble |
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