Jeremy was rapidly growing tired, the events of the last few hours taking their toll. His spent member was sore, his arms shaking with the effort of holding him above Sarah. But the trembling of her body beneath his told him his diligence would soon be rewarded. Her taut buttocks quivered as his belly slapped them time and again. Her shoulders rose and fell, then rose again, her back arching like a bow, an arrow of desire ready to spring forth. From beneath her, a hand emerged. With stunning speed, it moved like a striking snake, grabbing his wrist and pulling it to her heaving breast.

"Now," she said, and he could feel the muscles of her pussy clamping down on his cock like a vise. He gave an anguished moan, but continued to please his Lover, his hand cupping her tit, his fingers flicking the nipple. "Oh, Jeremy, now!" she cried, and collapsed onto the mattress, her entire body rippling in ecstasy as she came to her orgasm.

“Well, that was disappointing," Rachel murmured to Maria. The soft sound of receding footsteps told them Jeremy had reached the upstairs landing without killing either himself or Sarah. Alex had retreated downstairs, and Joshua was in one of the spare rooms on the ground floor, making the final preparations for their return from the hospital. Maria could hear the faint whine of a cordless drill as he worked, his tuneless humming a backdrop to the other soft sounds inside the house.

"You can't always get what you want," Maria agreed with a soft smile.

She took Rachel by the hand. "Come, senora. We still have things we can do to pass the time until we must leave.”

She led her into the kitchen, where the dishes from their lunch were stacked in the sink. She pursed her mouth disapprovingly as she took in the mess. Not so bad, considering some of the other families whose houses she had cleaned before Rachel offered her a full-time job and an apartment. But still messier than she Liked.

Maria opened the dishwasher, finding the dishes from the previous night still there. She sighed in resigned frustration.

“Sometimes I wonder how you managed before I came along, Mistress." She began to pull the clean dishes out, putting them away neatly in the cabinets.

“What do you mean?"

“You are all so...untidy."

“Why is it so big a deal to you?" Rachel asked her quietly. She started to help put away the contents of the dishwasher.

“It's only a few dirty dishes. They could easily wait until morning."

Maria sighed as she handed her a glass, lost in memory.

“I grew up ina small apartment with a big family, senora. My father was a good man, but had no education. So he worked hard for small wages and died too young. My mother, she went to work to put food on the table, and came home too tired to take care of our home properly.

“It was a hard time for us, my brother and sisters and I. I was the oldest, after Paco, and he went and found work too. So it fell to me to keep our home clean. And I found out it was a way of having some control over my life. Our lives. We might not have much to eat, but we could eat it from clean dishes on a clean table. The carpet might be twenty years old, but at least it could be vacuumed. When my mother brought a friend home from work, or the padre came from church, or my sister came to present her newest novio to my mother, they would see we were decent people, who had standards."

“Unlike some people." Rachel's voice was soft and understanding.

"Yes." Emotion thickened Maria's accent. "I saw it happen too many times. When people in our neighborhood began to despair. When they saw no way out. When they thought themselves trapped by poverty and bad schools and dead-end jobs. That's where it started. First the dirt would creep in. Then the alcohol and the drugs. Then the violence and the crime. By then, it was too Late.

"So I made sure it did not happen. Not to my family." She rinsed a glass, then set it firmly in the washer. "My brother and sisters and I all graduated high school. None of us have ever been in a police report. None of us got pregnant at sixteen, or sold drugs, or have ever given my father, God rest him, a reason to be ashamed of us."

"I'm sure you haven't," Rachel said gently.

Maria continued to empty the sink. As she turned, one final glass in her hand, her fingers slipped on the slick surface. The glass dropped to the floor. She gasped, already hearing the crystalline tinkle as it fractured, seeing the spray of slivers bounce across the floor, a trap to wound an unwary walker.

Before it could shatter into a thousand pieces, Rachel's tail reached out, quicker than thought, and caught it a bare inch above the floor.

The tip cradled it much as would the palm of a human's hand.

They looked at each other, eyes wide. With a tiny smile, Rachel used her tail to set the glass in the dishwasher.

“They are useful," Rachel said quietly. Her lips quirked in a smile.

“And I can tell that I was right about you."