Suddenly, the older rabbit put her hand on her daughter's shoulder, mumbling something in her ear and slipping her some money. The younger of the two hopped up from her seat, hugged her mother tightly, and walked down the dirt path that led to town. To your surprise, the mother made her way towards you. Uh oh. Did she see you ogling her feet? For that matter, did she know you were ogling her daughter's feet, too? This might not be good. You decide to stand still, reasoning that running away would be more trouble than its worth, especially if she thinks you're a Peeping Tom of some kind. You don't wanna be put on any lists!
"Hello there, young man. I didn't think anyone else lived near our lil' old home," she disarmingly remarks, eyes permanently lidded in a half-weary, half-sultry housewife fashion, "My name is Vanilla. Pleased to meet you."
You stumble out a hello, and shakily introduce yourself in ragged breath, taking the time to wipe your sweaty hands against the sides of your thighs. Your, er, sweatiness didn't go unnoticed. Vanilla looked at you with the most compassionate concern you'd ever gotten from a stranger. If you didn't know you were blushing before, you definitely did now.
"You seem very tense. Did you come a long way?"
Not knowing what to say, the innuendo in her innocent, yet seductive timbre fizzling your mind, you simply nod your head yes.
She grabs your shoulders worriedly, looking you in the eyes. "Oh, you poor thing! Please, come inside. I'll help you get some rest."
You felt your mouth go dry and your thoughts wander into saucier terrain. There's no way she's not doing it intentionally, right? Maybe your mind really just is in the gutter...or maybe she really did catch you peeping! Well, there's nothing you can do now but hope for the best. Vanilla leads the way as she brings you into her cozy home. Your eyes flick down to her large, lovely peds as you both bound up the stairs of the porch. You got an excellent view of the bottoms of her feet; with each step, her feet raised, showing off the wide, continuous expanse of impossibly plush skin from the back of her thick, puffy heels to her pudgy, protruding balls that just blocked the sight of her toes. You silently bat at the erection you were sporting and peeled your eyes away from the captivating sight. You need to have more self-control; even if she didn't catch you before (which you're still not sure about), you're making yourself even more obvious by staring while the two of you were alone together.
Eventually, you two reach the living room, unshodding yourselves on the way. You took a quick peek at those plump, mature toes that were obscured before. Your member hardened, and you just as quickly looked away, swearing to avoid putting Vanilla in your line of sight unless absolutely necessary.
Your mind returns to less erotic thoughts as you eye the furniture and décor of the room. The entire place gave off a very homely aura. The fridge was decorated with children’s drawings from the past and speckled with magnetic letters, with a few arranged in a sentence reading: ‘I love you, Mom!’ There were two comfy-looking reclining chairs with smooth leather covers, and a couch with a TV set opposite from it. A large, translucent tub containing what looked like Legos sat in the corner.
“Are you sure you’re not coming down with something, dear? You look awfully flushed,” the motherly rabbit dotes. Jeez, you hadn't noticed you were blushing the whole time. Lady Luck must love you, because if this bunny were any less trusting, you’d probably be behind bars by now.
"I'll give you a better place to rest..." Vanilla trails off, grabbing a recliner and pulling it towards the sofa. "There we go." You thank her, resting on the seat of the chair. She smiles warmly at you.
“Let me check your temperature now.” She moves closer to you and lays a gloved hand on your forehead. You shiver upon the soft, reassuring contact. She’s really good at handling people. The sound of her muttering something about your temperature being 'a bit higher than normal' is only half-processed by your brain as your concentration melts away. You can only focus on her soft, covered palm. Her hands are so warm…
Absentmindedly, you lean into Vanilla’s touch, prompting her to giggle softly. “Oh, you flatter me, dear. I suppose I still have the magic touch!" She rubs your forehead slightly, sending relaxing tingles down your spine. You almost whine when she moves away, but you think better of it. Guilt creeps into your mind again as you consider that you were lying just to get at your kindly hostess's tootsies. Steeling your resolve, you justify it in your head: judging by the shoe collection at the doorstep (which you took the chance to ogle when Vanilla wasn't looking) the older rabbit was a single mother. She seemed to work hard to raise and support her cheerful young daughter. She's probably running herself ragged just planning the day out. Surely, a massage is just what she needs to relax after at the end of the day?
"OUCH!"
You look up as Vanilla cries out, holding her leg through her sundress. Using the one actually justified excuse you had to look at her feet, you notice a lone Lego laying on the ground directly beneath her sole. "Mmph, that really smarts! Oh Cream, you always leave at least one of these things out every time you play with them..." You feel a pang of compassion for the rabbit, which is dulled somewhat by awestruck lust as she sits down on the couch and rests her feet on the Ottoman just across from you. Large, plump, scrunching soles lay directly in your line of sight, and despite the fact that she can see what you're doing, you stare down at her them, entranced. Unfortunately, Vanilla took that to mean something different:
"Ah! I'm dreadfully sorry, young man, I've been on my feet all day, so they must be rather ripe," she apologizes, already starting to move her feet out of embarrassment. "I'll get them out of your way—"
"W-w-wait!" you cry out, startling the both of you. "Y-you don't have to let yourself hurt for my comfort, Vanilla,"
She looks back at you anxiously. "Are you sure? They must be bothering you; you've been staring at them since I put them up."
Been doing that a lot longer than you think, lady, a snarky voice echoes out in your mind.
You gulp, trying to come up with something that won't make Vanilla move her awesome feet away from you. "I'm just worried that you hurt yourself," you reply, reaching out to her perfect soles. She almost jumps in her seat when you touch the Lego-bitten foot, a slight indent of the piece still appearing in the middle of the instep. She gasps, retracting her leg and yanking the appendage away from you. "N-no!" You look up, fear and disappointment apparent in your face. The older rabbit blushes, mortified by her actions. Her voice spills out shakily as she avoids your gaze, "I'm supposed to be the one pampering you..."
"You've done so much to help me already," you calmly reassure her, "Let me help you this once."
You're ready to give her a nice, relaxing massage, but can you keep it PG?
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