Amami is in his element.
“Go on, Piggy. Eat up. I want you properly fattened in time for market,” the avocado siscon purrs, dilated pupils roving over the growing bulge beneath his hog’s ever tightening button-up shirt. The buttons are beginning to strain now; Amami feels his arousal burning at the thought of them springing free, soft white fat spilling out between them to flub gently onto thick fat thighs and then to only grow further as it gurgles. Amami groans his encouragement, dipping his head to suck a love bite onto Kiyo’s long pale neck as he feeds him another sugary doughnut. The anthropologist gasps, a deep groan following only to be muffled by fatty pastry.
Amami is going to have the Ultimate Anthropologist Korekiyo Shinguuji as his own personal prize pig, oozing out of his suits, sharp features buried in fat, cold eyes gone warm and demure with thousands of calories and laziness. He digs his fingers into Kiyo’s middle, rubbing it eagerly until Kiyo lets out a long wet belch.
“Yes, God yes!” Amami moans, rutting up against Kiyo’s thigh, “Want you. So full and fat- ungh!”
“Mmph, hurp, yes Amami!” Kiyo groans in response, his own eyes dark, “More. Feed me. More.”
Amami lets out a soft gasp, his entire body suddenly quivering in his rush to comply, stuffing more doughnuts into Kiyo’s mouth as quick as he can, peppering the man’s neck, chest, and belly with kisses. He gives a soft whimper as Kiyo arches his back, pushing against his buttons and sends one flying. He dutifully feeds Kiyo more, dipping his head down to kiss, suck, and worship that perfect belly. They are both panting, groaning, and spent in a matter of minutes. Amami feels Kiyo slip long clean fingers into his short cropped hair and lets out a happy sigh, his own sticky fingers still clinging to Kiyo’s overstuffed middle.
“Good,” they both say in one breath.
