The Sordid Story of Jim and Charlotte

There once was a varlet named Jameson Sneed,
who married a harlot named Charlotte McCreed.
Now, Jameson loved her and pledged her his life,
if she would stop hooking and become his sweet wife.

Their days were so blissful, so filled with desire,
she teased him and squeezed him and set him on fire!
So accomplished was she, in matters of love,
in any position, below or above,
that days passed like minutes, and months flew like days,
while Jim and his Charlotte searched for new ways!

They swung from the rafters, they leaned against walls,
they made love in closets, in tubs and in halls,
they found time for passion at least once per hour,
not stopping to bathe, or even to shower.

But fate intervened , so cruel and so fickle,
when Jim tried to touch her, to sooth or to tickle,
she rudely rebuked him with every advance
and left poor Jim trying to get in her pants.
What once had been torrid with Charlotte adoring,
now led Jim's princess to go back to whoring .

Time passed too quickly as love had flown by,
and poor Charlotte longed for their neighbor named Sly.
Sly was a scoundrel, so dashing and bold,
but Charlotte desired his body to hold,
she imagined him holding her, that gaze in his eyes,
which promised of future liasons and rides.

"Oh, please, my sweet darling, please tell me duly,
what happened to love that you swore to me truly?
You've taken expressions of love I've made nice,
and shunned my advances, you've turned cold as ice!
If I am to lose you to another man's touch,"
Jim asked her conritely, "don't you owe me that much?"

Charlotte's gaze softened as she looked at his face,
she knew she must hurry out, run from this place,
before guilt consumed her and forced her to stay,
she must take her leave of him, she must run away.
Tears streamed from her eyes as she quick turned her back,
"Dear Jim, it's not fair, but there's something you lack."

"Oh, I see," he said, as he sat on the chair,
"my methods are lacking, I just can't compare,
I'm sure that you must have had a great chuckle,
when first you encountered what was under my buckle,
but I don't recall mirth as you laid there wiggling,
when you cried out to God, you certainly weren't giggling!"

"Don't make me spell it out, Jameson dear,
you really tried hard and you got me so near,
but when we were ending the passionate race,
why couldn't you slow down,come in second place?
It's not fun any more, I just can't seem to make it,
when time after time I'm forced to just fake it !"

All the blood now drained out of poor Jameson's face,
his smile was now gone and a scowl took it's place.
He tried to be calm as he looked at his wife,
but he reached in the drawer and he still grabbed that knife.

Calmly he hid it behind his own back,
at the opportune moment he'd grab her and hack!
Char seemed to sense that the end may be near,
his face was contorted with an ungodly sneer,
so she made her decision, poured two jiggers of scotch,
one hand held the shot glass, the other his crotch.

Cooing and whispering, "Please, Jim, don't be bitter,
you know how you make my heart go aflitter,
I can't stand to see you unhappy like this,
so please drop that weapon and give me a kiss."

Her feminine wiles showed the sorrow she felt,
and Jameson's heart was starting to melt,
'What am I doing?', he thought to himself,
and he set the knife down on the top kitchen shelf,
"Oh, you're my enchantress, my goddess, my slut,"
he said as he reached 'round her and squeezed her sweet butt.

"How could I have doubted you, my sweet humble child,
you know I adore you, you just drive me wild!
I promise from now on, whenever we screw,
my undivided attention will focus on you!"

"How much do you love me?" was Charlotte's next word,
and Jameson scarcely believed what he heard,
but calmly he held her and looked in her eyes,
he hoped she beheld his utter surprise.

"How could you ask me that, again must I prove,
that all of my being waits for your next move?
I've put up with your dalliance, oh, I know the score,
I've looked past your attitude, you want more and more,
I've shown you respect at all times, that I heeded,
when you asked me, I gave you the space that you needed."

Charlotte's face now just stared at the floor,
"Jim, it's not your fault, I just need much more.
You're a good man, a kind man, a man among men,
I love when we're doing it, again and again,
but something is missing inside my damned soul,
that doesn't get filled when you fill up my hole."

"Well, that about says it, I guess," Jim surmised,
"I must be delusional, but I'm still surprised,
I should have known, or at very least suspected,
that your needs went unquenched, unfulfilled, undetected.
But don't worry, Charlotte, I should have done more,
I should have known better than to marry a whore."

"Remember that Porsche I promised you in bed,
you can let your pimp-daddy go buy it, instead.
Next time you're laying there, with some guy hopped on,
remember my name's Jameson, and I'm not your John."

"I'll try not to think of the things that you've said,
I may even miss you when they find you dead,
in some sleezy motel infested with lice,
remember that next time when you set the price."

Charlotte just stood there as Jim started walking,
she knew that she'd blown it, and no amount of talking
could change what had happened to them on this day,
as his love had faltered, and then passed away.

She took a deep breath and choked back a tear,
she felt so alone then, so ravaged by fear,
flight was not possible, and she felt the panic
set into her being and she became frantic.
Char heard the knob turn as he shut the door,
and once again took back her life as a whore.


Bob Church©Dec. 9, 1998