Obsessed with Perfection

So this is my first time trying to do multiple viewpoints, and it's probably my last. This shit was hard. Enjoy :)

******

MALACHI

She became my reason for existence. Her gentle voice sang a heavenly tune that could lule me to sleep on rough nights. She had skin softer than a feather pillow, the color resembling delicate, delicious milk chocolate.

Her eyes were deep dark pools of brown like the hearty bark of a tree trunk. When they settled on mine, I'd imagine being lost in an enchanted forest and never wanting to be found. I would stay trapped in those deep woods forever if it meant she'd keep all her attention on me.

Kinky curls lay atop her head, reminding me of a giant heap of cotton candy that bounced with every step she took. Her body would be considered average to most, but for my eyes, she was an absolute goddess. She'd always wear cute sundresses with bright colors to liven up her skin tone, and those dresses showed off so much of what I wanted.

Her waist was defined, but she had a noticeable tummy, enough for it to create protrusions in her clothes. Each time I saw it, there was an ache in my dick as I tried to calm the bastard from poking a hole through my pants. That reaction happened whenever I saw any part of her actually. Especially those thick, cushioned thighs. One chance between those and I knew I'd never leave. They supported a plump, fat ass that jiggled with any slight motion. The amount of times I envisioned her bent in front of me was unhealthy. Hell, all of this was unhealthy, and the worst part? I was completely aware of this brewing obsession.

She had a hold of every section in my mind. I couldn't bear the thought of not seeing her everyday which is why I placed cameras throughout their home. That's how I caught her husband cheating on her. My first reaction was to run, and snitch but I knew the confession would devastate her, and the last thing I wanted was to hurt my angel. She was always faithful, only casually doing house work or reading like the saint she was. At least, that's what I witnessed with my trusty cameras.

She didn't work, and I couldn't figure out if it was a plan to strip her of independence by her husband, or was it a choice she made, unknowingly putting herself in a shit situation. I hated calling him her husband, but I hated calling him my best friend even more. Friends of mine would recognize a blessing in front of them, but he was as blind as someone with no eyes.

He was never the smartest man in a room and the older we got, it seemed like the dumber he'd be. It pissed me off how fucking stupid he was to cheat on literal perfection. The stupid, idiot, dumb fuck has the world at his feet, and he decides she wasn't enough. Pathetic.

Honestly, I'd probably kill for her. The subtle interactions we shared built up over time which, unbeknownst to her, caused the passionate obsession that haunts me today.

It'd be a gentle arm graze as she slowly walked by or a smile that lasted just a little too long. She'd always have me caught in her web, and I'd happily stay cocooned and await for her to devour me. I couldn't keep her out of my head even if I ripped it from my own shoulders. She was my poison and the fucking cure. I'll always be trapped in her loop of addictive love. My perfect infatuation.

It was a bright, sunny day and Carter and I decided to lounge around his massive pool. My home didn't come with one, and I never felt the need to own one since my "buddy" lived right next door. Abigail came walking out with all of her glory. Her beautiful brown skin was glistening with the sun's rays, and the smile she greeted us with held enough warmth to melt gold.

As much as I tried not to ogle, her body was always calling to me. The sundress she wore today was a bright yellow with white flowers scattered along it. The hem at the waist insinuated her hips right before the fabric fell to a flowing ruffle around her thighs. Her breasts were struggling to stay concealed, and I thanked the lord for having the honor to witness it.

She came holding two glasses of iced tea. One for me, and one for her piece of shit housemate. She sat a glass on either side of the table before greeting me with that sing-song voice. Her lips placed a kiss on Carter's forehead, and I could feel my blood boiling at volcanic temperatures.

Carter didn't even acknowledge her loving gesture. He simply took a sip of the brown liquid before contorting his face into disappointment.

"There's not enough sugar in here Gail." She was already swaying her hips back to the house. Unaware of his criticism. I took a sample for my own taste test, and the liquid fell smoothly down my throat. The taste was perfect just like the woman who created it. Not overly sweet with a hint of lemon mixed within. It was a refreshing drink for this type of day.

"Ignorant bitch." Cater mumbled under his breath. I wanted to break that glass cup over his head and drown him in his own pool for the way he spoke about her, but I settled with a tame confrontation instead. Eventually, I'll be able to use more harsher methods to deal with him, but I had to play it cool if Abigail was going to be mine afterwards.

"Why do you speak about her like that?"

He wiggled his nose like a fucking chump before dropping his glass back on the table and glaring at me. "I'm just calling her what she is."

The tick in my jaw had to be noticeable. "What does that say about you since you married her?"

I took a long, loud sip from my cup, implying that I thought it was delicious. My stare was calm and collected, but I knew he had to see something lethal in there too. The way he backtracked was proof of that. "We've been married for years and she still can't gauge how much sugar I like in my tea."

"Be thankful you have a beautiful wife to make you sweet tea on a hot summer day while you lounge on your ass." I snapped.

Being single was fun until you craved that companionship and love, but this fucker was complaining about sugar saturation. My anger was boiling over. Now, I wanted to smash that glass over his head, and use the broken pieces to cut out that ungrateful tongue. I shot up from my lounge chair and stormed towards his house.

"Where are you going?" He asked, lifting from his lounge chair in a panic.

"To the damn bathroom." I shot back. Obviously I wasn't, the only time I ever stepped foot in that house was to get my daily dose of her. I'm surprised he hadn't noticed yet, or if he did, he didn't give any acknowledgment of the fact. Unless he really didn't give a shit.

I pushed open the door, a little more aggressively than I would've liked, but instantly calmed as I caught sight of my queen. My love. My destined tranquility.

She whipped around from the kitchen counter, and I could briefly make out the pitcher of fresh tea and a bag of sugar behind her. The fact that she HAD heard him flashed red in my eyes. I would see to it that he could never speak to her that way again.

Abigail held a saddened face before she caught a glimpse that it was me instead of Carter. She quickly corrected her expression to a more friendly tone, and if I hadn't been so infatuated to notice every detail, I might've missed it.

"Ooh Malachi, I'll have a fresh batch of tea out in a minute if you'll give me a second." She flashed straight white teeth, but her eyes were devoid of any sparkle. I hated that she held her joy from me.

I stalked towards her, unaware of how close I was actually getting. Before I knew it, her back was pressed against the counter as I leaned down to meet those brown orbs. I towered over her curvy frame, she was already a taller woman, but it was nothing compared to how easily my height triumphed over hers. She strained her neck to meet my hungry gaze, and I knew she had to see all the emotions I've been restraining, battling in my irises.

"Your tea was perfect." I insisted. My tone was absolute, and she'd better know I wasn't lying. I studied her for as long as she allowed me to be enveloped in her sensational gravitational pull. I was a mere world surrounded by a beautiful, black universe.

Her full lips parted slightly, and I swear I could hear her heartbeat accelerating. Does that mean I had the same effect on her she held on me?

"Thank you, I had no idea you were so passionate about tea." Her brown obs shifted from my hazel eyes down to my feet then back up again. Like she was gauging my next move. Hell, I didn't even know my next move. I skipped back, suddenly aware of my current outburst. How could I explain away me caging her into the counter? Fuck, I need to control my emotions better. Carter would be on the road again soon, and I'd have plenty of time then to make her mine.

I quickly moved back before turning towards their bathroom. "Everything you make is always perfect." I mumbled before shooting off to the restroom.

ABIGAIL

I stayed molded to the counter. My arms could barely hold my body upright. Malachi was acting...differently. He'd never been in my space like that, and for a minute, I thought he was furious enough about the sweet tea to actually do something about it. But then he said it was perfect. Everything I made was perfect.

The words swirled around my brain, and knocked the sentences against my frontal lobe until I realized that he meant it. Maybe it was his demeanor or the tone he spoke, but it was the truth. I could feel it, but I was also so confused. Why was he acting this way? He could've just said it from afar, he didn't have to crowd me in my own home. My shoulders sagged and I propelled myself off the counter.

Should I be here when he gets back to confront him about cornering me? Should I ignore it? I don't even want to tell Carter, it's not like he'd do anything. Hell, he might encourage him to beat my ass since he's too much of a bitch to do it himself.

Shame consumed my body at the thought. Could I mean something so cruel? Sure, he'd say some verbal abusive comments, but I don't think he'd ever hit me. Would he? Now I was thinking about my failing marriage, and my husband's best friend's unknown tendencies. I need a nap, if Carter wants more tea he can come make it his damn self. I quickly skipped up the stairs, taking two at a time and entered the master bedroom.

It was almost time for Carter to go back on the road, and a small part of me couldn't wait for that to happen. No more criticisms or snide comments, it'll just be my books, silence, and me. It is saddening that I look forward to the alone time more than my husband's presence, and maybe that's a sign our marriage was reaching a devastating point of no return.

After shedding my sun dress and replacing it with my silk pajamas set, I lay in bed. Letting thoughts saturate my mind, changing my mood with each one that passes. My marriage and Carter would bring depressing pinches that scattered along my skin, but when I thought of Malachi. I don't know. My nerves and heart had no reaction to his presence, but my brain kept taking me back to the events in the kitchen earlier today.

I could be overthinking it, but his hazel eyes showcased something I've never seen in him before. The brown, green, and gold were fighting with each other, maybe reflecting his emotions? It felt like he was holding something back, but I wasn't sure if I should be scared or...curious. To be fair, I wasn't sure of anything in my life at the moment. I engulfed my body in the comforter as I let my pupils disappear behind heavy lids. This was a needed nap.

MALACHI

Waking up the next day felt... suffocating, like a slow pull under water while witnessing the opening that swallowed you being covered. No escape, just darkness as your body sinks into the abyss below. This particular feeling I'd come to know as normal since I'd developed this insatiable obsession. I truly believed the only thing to tame such a feeling was waking next to Abigail. She'd cease the treacherous waves crashing into me. Her soft dark skin would be the calm that never let the storm unleash. All the obstacles blocking my escape would dissipate like smoke under her command, and she would bestow my serenity.

Knock knock

My nerves stood on edge at the intrusive sound causing me to shoot up from my comfortable sheets. 5am flashed red on the alarm clock as I honed in on the door. My heart was pumping with a bit more urgency compared to its peaceful pump just moments ago. I knew who I wanted it to be at that door, but I also knew who it would be. There was only one person that would knock this early in the morning.

My fist wrapped around the cold, metal knob, and slowly opened the structure to reveal a pudgy man with dark brown hair and even darker eyes. A duffle bag rests lazily over his shoulders as he awkwardly shifted his weight to accommodate the heaviness. Carter.

"I'm headed out for the next two months." He stated while giving a sly grin. Probably an 'I'm about to be unfaithful to my wife' grin.

"Alright man, you stay safe out there." I managed to say nonchalantly. And while you're away, I'll be fucking your wife and making her submit to all my obsessive tendencies. A wicked and plotting smile split my face.

"You hear me Malachi?" He had a thick eyebrow raised in confusion. I hadn't heard a word he said. All my thought power was focused on one dark skinned beauty. Damn, I really do need to control my emotions.

"What?"

"I asked if you could cut my grass like you always do while I'm gone, otherwise HOA will be on my ass."

"No problem. You know I got you." Truthfully I hated mowing grass, but I'd do anything to see Abigail. She'd always offer me iced water and a turkey sandwich. The delightful snack was sliced into two triangles every time I slaved outside in the heat. If I died and she wasn't heaven, I'd be seriously pissed. Angry enough to plot some way to resurrect, and rain down hell on earth.

My hand gently patted Carter's shoulder as a goodbye gesture before he turned on his heels and headed to his truck. My pupils followed the vehicle as it screeched away. I wonder if he even woke up Abigail to say goodbye.

Before my brain could comprehend, my legs were moving into my kitchen and down my basement stairs. Light from the computer screens illuminated the dark space with an ominous glow. I plopped down in the office chair stationed in the middle of the six screens. The cushion was soft and cozy and the backrest was no different. I paid good money for this chair since I knew I'd be in it for long periods of time.

I studied the first screen, located in the kitchen. Abigail wasn't there, why would she be? If he had woken her up to give goodbyes she'd probably just stay in bed unless she wanted an early morning snack. My eyes drifted to the second screen. There she was, so elegantly laid out on the comfy queen structure while softly breathing.

She'd wear practically nothing to sleep, and I'm almost embarrassed to say how often I watched her get her needed beauty rest. Almost.

Drool was slowly traveling down her jaw

as she lay on her back with a silk crop top barely holding up her breasts. The fabric didn't stand a chance against her nipples, as they were poking holes through it. Matching panties rolled up her hips, and I knew they had to be struggling to hold up all that ass. Only one side of the bed was occupied which means Carter hadn't even bothered to wake her and tell her he was leaving.

Bastard. She'd wake up without anyone to cherish and hold her. Unless I went over there, but that was a very bad idea. I'd have my head buried between her thighs before she could even open her sleepy eyes, and I'd keep her there too. For breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks, and dessert, the days would pass by with me devouring her pussy like it was my last meal.

My growing erection lay impatient against my thigh, watching her gave my dick a jumpstart everytime.

I let my throbbing length slip from my boxers as I studied the curvature of her limp body. The indentation in her hips paved the way for voluptuous love handles that clung to her cute tummy. The delicate folds only came second to her full plump breast fighting her silk top for freedom.

I was already pumping my cock to the thought of her suffocating me with the large mounds, gradually limiting my air supply while I kiss, suck, and nibble all the spots that weren't exposed between them. Then I'd kiss her big plump lips, bound her mouth to mine like we were practicing bdsm with our tongues. My hand movements become more rhythmic with a vigorous undertone.

Vivid images of her round ass recoiling as I slammed into her from behind forced my hand to pick up speed to keep the pace with my feral mind. If I was granted one minute with her body to do whatever I pleased with no consequences. The vile, filthy, unadulterated deeds I'd commit would have the devil grimace in disgust.

Pressure was building from the base of my dick and threatening to shoot out the tip, the veins along the shaft were pulsating as if preparing to send off a rocket. My gaze lingered at the drool drizzling slowly down her chin and onto the firm pillow she trusted with that beautiful head of fluffy hair.

My long, pale length would be sliding into that unguarded hole and using that drool to lubricate its way down her pretty little throat. Twitching rattled through my nerves and down my shaft, exploding my cock with each perfect, paced pump I was dishing out. The sticky, white liquid shot over equipment and concrete flooring before it oozed down my hand like white jelly being squeezed from a doughnut.

"Fuck" I formed the words involuntary as my chest heaved from the excersise it suffered through. Slumping back on the chair, I kept all my attention on Abigail. She hadn't moved an inch, only peacefully raising her chest to inhale and the opposite motion to exhale. She wasn't ready for what I wanted to do to her. I knew she wouldn't be able to handle all the pent up desire I've been hoarding, but she'd better get ready because nothing was stopping the storm that was brewing on her shore.

ABIGAIL

Cater was already gone when I ended my slumber. It seems like he grew more distant with each job he took over the road, but was I really surprised? He'd spend months out on the open highway, traveling to new states, discovering new places... and people. It didn't seem impossible that he'd slowly begun to lose interest in me.

I had suspicions he was cheating. His sweet nature began to decline each time he returned home. I chalked it up to stress, but all the bills were paid and I would always try to be the perfect wife for the man I loved. Though nowadays, it seemed like the efforts proved useless.

It began with us not talking as much as we did at the beginning of our marriage, then it'd escalate to him not liking outfits I wore or shampoos I used. Now it was blatant verbal abuse, and for some reason, I was still here trying to be the trophy wife. Though we both knew our marriage would never be what it once was.

I tried keeping away from the dark corners of my mind. If he was cheating, that meant I would be broken, homeless, and jobless. A whole cacophony of problems by one simple betrayal. But would I stay with a man that doesn't value me just to keep a life we originally built together? A life that has taken four years from us both. One that I'm unsure I'm happy with.

I shook my head trying to fend off the deep thoughts. I still held love for Carter. After all, I was here even if the alternative was hell, and I always tried to give him what he asked of me. Even though his methods were hurtful sometimes.

A melody echoed through the house indicating that someone had rung the doorbell. I drug myself out of bed and tied a plush robe over my silk panties and spaghetti strap shirt. My Afro was molded to the shape of the bed, flat in the back but puffy and wild in the front. Carter's stinging words yesterday made me forget to throw on my bonnet before I slept. Now I get to suffer the consequences of my actions. I'll fix it later, who would care anyway. I can't even keep my husband's interest.