I woke from my sated slumber, a smile on my face. Turning to my queen, I see the same smile reflected in her eyes, barely open from her repose. As I looked at her, my mind replayed images of the night before, the sounds, amazing sights, and most of all, a feeling of being, different. Her words controlled many, soft yet powerful whips that always brought about her will, even when you thought it was your own. Now, it was more than her words. Her body brought a whole new element to my journey, creating a hunger, a thirst, both working together, driving me to feel her touch. Shaking myself from my dream within a dream, I stumbled up from our cramped niche in the room. The colors seemed dark in the light of day, muted through barred windows, way up high on the wall. Pulling her dress on as she stood up, she tossed her hair, even with no make up, she was captivating, skin smooth, like a sculpture. We walked through the halls of this inner city labyrinth, pushing out into the day onto a busy street, arrested by the smell of street vendors, plying their wares, using the aroma of their treats to lure their patrons. Landing them, landing us, with little effort, as our appetites pushed us to take our money, hard earned money, to provide for our satisfaction. As I watched this exchange, I began to see, my Queen was the same. Her aroma of sensuality worked its way through the crowd, men turning, drawn to her. Women even, seemingly full and content with their own palaces, were left panting after her bait. They, like me, are compelled to give out of their earnings, out of the riches of their heart, to give her things you would never offer to a stranger, all in an attempt to satisfy the desires ignited by their own lusts. I find myself doing the same, but, I am different to her, or am I? This is the reason why I work my mundane, back breaking job, so I might touch her and escape from the listless world that was mine, outside this Queen's castle.