This choice: No; hope she doesn't freak out... • Go Back... From the very start, there was no way you weren't going to submit to your desires. It was preposterous to think otherwise! You were so dead...
Well, maybe you can overwhelm Vanilla? Make her feel so good that she doesn't care about how weird it was? With your cock already throbbing in your pants at the mere touch of her tootsies, you guess that's your only option. Hopefully, it won't take long.
With that, you gently start to dig your thumbs into the plush, wrinkled skin of her instep, taking extra care in rubbing the still-sore spot where the Lego nipped her foot. Watching the soft, pudgy flesh contort under your fingers was like dying and going to heaven! You even had a perfect guise for your perverted leering at her beautiful soles; it could seem to anyone that you were just lost in concentration (though you might want to move your face a bit further away from them, for safety's sake).
Vanilla instantly began to relax, little pinpricks of pleasure shooting up her spine from your touch. The nervous tension in her muscles was starting to fade at the care of your fingers, but as you got a bit too playful with kneading her plump digits, she piped up once again:
"I'm sorry, dear, but I can't take advantage of your kindness like this," she mumbles, avoiding your gaze and unsuccessfully trying to pull her foot away, "My foot is feeling much better now, so I'll just--"
"Aww, but I barely got started..."
"You really don't have to..."
"Oh, don't be such a worrywart, Vanilla! You've obviously been working hard for Cream--"
"Wait, h-how do you know her name?"
You laugh. "--that's what I'm saying! You just told me she left that Lego out; I only assumed that was her name. Now, you've obviously been running yourself ragged here. If you kept this pace up, I'd be surprised if you didn't collapse! Don't worry about what I think, or some silly faux pas. Just let your thoughts go for a bit, and relax..."
Vanilla sends you a shaky smile. "I-I'm sorry. I suppose you're right, dear. I have been hard at work. Maybe a bit too hard..." She was only the slightest bit hesitant about making her guest take care of her anymore, and if that's what you wanted, she wouldn't let that get in the way of your (supposedly) genuine desire to help. Partly out of respect for you, and partly because this massage felt so damn good...
And so, you happily continue tending to the mother-of-one's tired, tender feet, digging your thumbs into each and every arch of her toes. Even if she's shutting her eyes and trying her damndest to not groan out loud, you can still tell from her restrained shuddering that she's loving every second of this. The feeling is very much mutual; you barely stop yourself from burying your face into her soles as is. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to indulge yourself, just a little bit...
Hesitantly, knowing with every cell in your brain that this is a terrible idea, yet feeling compelled to do it anyway, you plant a gentle kiss on Vanilla's arch, right where she stepped on that lucky Lego. She gasps. You both freeze up and stare at each other, each red as a tomato. You're the first to respond, scrambling to apologize, since it's obviously far too late for excuses.
"I am so sorry, Vanilla, I-I don't know what came over me--"
"N-no, it's fine," she meekly responds, also looking away.
You have to stop yourself from gawking at her like she just grew another head. Why didn't she yell at you? Or kick you out of her home, for that matter? You don't think anyone would have such a tolerance for your degeneracy, so that's off the list. Is she still feeling guilty about earlier? Or maybe, she really is enjoying it like you are...
A little spark of hope lights up in your chest as you break the awkward silence.
"Do you...want me to continue?"
She puts a hand to her forehead and flushes even redder than before.
"I, er, yes, if you'd like to..."
As Vanilla trails off, you slowly resume your massage, sinking your thumbs into the softness of her arch and rubbing expertly, working out the kinks in her muscles. She's making less of an effort to hide her enjoyment now, sighing at your touch. Even then, you know not to overstep your boundaries again. You thought you were lucky before, but due to your enormous fuckup, it's practically a miracle that you haven't been shoved out onto the wayside for being such a creep. And so, you continue to glide your fingers across the subtly damp sole of your hostess, currently unaware of her growing restlessness.
The lonely mother you've been lavishing is secretly having the time of her life. It was strange, and certainly unbecoming of you to make such a flagrant display of affection, but at the same time, it was insanely flattering to her. To think that even her old, weary feet were capable of driving a young man like you to break such a strong taboo...it was driving her wild! She could tell she was fidgeting, and you were feeling down about your mistake earlier, so in a spontaneous rush of confidence, she let out a string of words out that she'd never expected would come from her own mouth:
"You know...you can kiss it again, if you want to..."
The moment she finished that sentence, she slapped her hands on her mouth. What was she thinking?! You were clearly uncomfortable, and bringing your thoughts back to what went down wouldn't help things at all! You probably don't have a foot fetish at all--or at least, you didn't before now--so making you think about that would be just plain embarrassing. A-and, who was she to tell you what to do? Oh no, she made everything worse and--
Your lips press firmly against Vanilla's plush sole, and she instantly sinks back into her chair, a moan spilling out of her mouth. You'd already sunk to the floor the moment she asked, leaning obediently at her feet. Not satisfied, you continue to trace your lips against her skin, placing feather-light kisses everywhere. With one of your hands free, you subconsciously reach down your trousers and grab your raging erection, gliding your fingers across your shaft, your arm on autopilot. The mother-of-one, free of her own inhibitions, eagerly presses her feet into your face. You fall in love with the feeling, and start ravishing her soles with your tongue.
The both of you are practically in a trance; Vanilla is planting her soles onto your face, covering it wholesale with their entire surface, giving you unrestricted access to every square inch of her mature, alluring skin. You're lapping at her flesh with a hunger you've scarce felt before in your life, jerking yourself to completion all the while. For a long, long time, you just lay there and lick at her tired feet like it was your sole objective in life to make sure every nook and cranny of them was washed and cared for. She moans without restraint, gripping your hair with her toes and scrunching her soles into your face, almost like she was trying to return the gesture. The unbridled ecstasy of this realization causes you to blast your package all over the insides of your pants. Slowly, the vigor of your licking wanes, and eventually you just lay there, head cushioned by the plushness of those beautiful peds.
After a bit, Vanilla's soles part, leaving you to meet her gaze. She's still trembling, and now she's giving you a ______ stare from up above.
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