Flowers of the Imperial Palace

Lyrellie threw her head back and released a hoarse moan before falling forwards, her petite chest pressing against Marakhthanilla's, heaving with deep sighs. Lissi reached over to take Lyrellie by the shoulders and hauled her off, pulling her back into the pool. Lyrellie whined and swatted weakly at Lissi's face as her dick sprang free, still twitching and spilling the last few spurts.

Casting Lyrellie aside, Lissi made to lunge forward and take her place again, but she was shouldered out of the way as Suria leaped into the water and grabbed Mara's thighs, pushing them further apart.

"Come," Marakhthanilla looked back and addressed Lor, still standing, "Lor. Suria's lovely big backside looks very inviting, does it not? Take it. She wants it."

"Y-yes my Goddess," Lor smiled hesitantly.

"Girl," Marakhthanilla beckoned, "Kneel here first a moment."

Lor knelt obediently beside Mara's head. Mara looked into the girl's pretty, dark eyes as she turned to one side and slid out her tongue to caress the tip of Lor's stiff dick. Lor shuffled closer on her knees, and Mara reached out to guide her dick to her lips. She kissed, then opened wide as she pulled it closer still, and let it slide into her mouth. She gave one long, powerful suck, slurping noisily with her lips clasped around the shaft. As she did so, she felt Suria enter her cunt in one long, rough thrust. Then when she heard Lor whimper and felt a little slick of wetness shoot out onto her tongue, Mara pulled back and disgorged.

"Now go," she whispered, "Fuck her." Seeing a flash of regret cross the girl's face, she added, "I will be here until midday at least. You will have your turn. I would love for you to fill me."

Lor's face lit up and she got swiftly to her feet and scampered into the pool.

Suria was the roughest of the three girls who had taken her this morning. Her dick was the biggest, too. Thicker, it pressed her just a little wider open than the others. In her younger days, Marakhthanilla had preferred tenderness, though in the heady llimhendel-filled atmosphere of the harem it was difficult to come by, could only really be achieved by selecting girls who had already spent themselves two or three times recently and were nearing exhaustion. But over time, perhaps as her body had worn to being used so often, she had come to enjoy the roughness of more eager, stronger girls like Suria. The expression on Suria's cute, homely face was one of vigor, almost violence, her lower lip held tight between her teeth and her striking red eyebrows knotted in a frown of exertion. Each wet, oily slap of her hips against Marakhthanilla's body rang out with a satisfying clap.

Marakhthanilla could feel her own pleasure mounting now. The heat in her core was pulsing out into her limbs, warming her body in the already cloying hot air of the harem. She could feel the redness at her cheeks, and across her chest, the sweat trailing from her body. Suria would probably be the first to bring her to orgasm.

Which meant perhaps that she would be more likely to be the sire of Marakhthanilla's next pregnancy. That was another piece of harem matron wisdom that Marakhthanilla suspected was at least partly true. It was of course not always possible to establish sireship with certainty, but sometimes it became clear, as her children aged. And of her known sires, many of them were those who had given her the greatest pleasure on what had been in retrospect the probable visit during which she had conceived.

Marakhthanilla knew such things, and had been able to put the wisdom of tradition to the test in part thanks to her obsession with record-keeping. Her gift for administration, her passion for accuracy and organization, had served the empire very well during the period of expansion and modernization that had accompanied her reign. And Marakhthanilla applied it just as meticulously in private matters. She glanced upward, over Suria's shoulder, at the glass dome. Somewhere up there, though hidden from view by the foliage, a pair of her handmaidens would be standing watching, keeping a careful record of which girls she made use of, for how long, how well she and the girl seemed to enjoy it, and so on.

Then suddenly her view was obscured as Suria leaned forward, letting go of Mara's thighs to plant her hands on the stone floor beside Mara's hips, steadying herself. Suria moaned aloud and hung her head, her thick hair falling about her face. Mara looked round her and saw that Lor had taken up position behind Suria and was easing herself into the other girl. Then without warning Suria cried out again and began a sudden desperate thrusting. Lor yelped and clung tight to Suria's gyrating body, clasping her hands to the bigger girl's breasts, and then it came, a slow, thick oozing deep inside Marakhthanilla's cunt, Suria's dick alternately thickening and softening with each spasm as the warmth spread out.

Marakhthanilla reached up, gasping. Her own climax was upon her, quickly rushing to a head. She took Suria by the shoulders and pulled her and Lor forward on top of herself. Then she set her lips to Suria's neck, kissed and gnawed and grunted, her body releasing an agony of tension through every muscle. The weight of the two girls pressed Suria's body down against Marakhthanilla's cunt and the final decisive jolt of relief shot up through her core, setting her alight with heat as she writhed and squeezed and purred.

With her last birth now several months behind her, she was sure to conceive again today. That is, if she wasn't already pregnant. She would stay a few hours more in the harem at least, to be sure. But her duty to the empire and the succession was as good as done. The rest was for her, her reward, a recompense in pure indulgence for her hard work in service of the glory of her ancestors.