#implssv

“You're being such a good boy right now for Daddy Zdaph ~” - Impulse was doted over as if he was a pampered dog, his gut was stuffed with steaks and pumpkin pies. Thoroughly humiliated. As much as he was still in denial about enjoying any of this, the fact that Zed was being especially assertive this time got him feeling… competitive?

One of the hands that kneaded Impulse’s gut had suddenly lifted off. “You can now join in too,” - Zdaph leaned back a bit and jostled his belly fat, to show what he wanted from Impulse. He was significantly bigger and puffier comparatively. His ever present smile sharpened once he noticed weirdly fierce glint in Impulse’s eyes. “… Okay!” - with little hesitation Impulse got his hands on Zed and drew several big circles into him. “Wow- Wowza!” - Impulse’s dull claws dug just deep enough to leave fleeting trails on Zed. What little distance there was between the two it had been reduced with a couple of hearty rounds, and Impulse started closing in on Zed's belly button. However, his demeanor changed to a reluctant curiosity, his rhythm became much more uniform. “Oh... Heh... You startled me there!..” - He squeezed and stretched the area around the navel with a little more care than before, but Zed still didn’t have a chance to get to him. It was a bit awkward to move with how he was seated, but Impulse still tried to scoop as much into his palms possible. He couldn't help that the lower hairy part of Zed’s belly felt the best. It gave him a bit of time to mull over what's next.

“Hah… What are you even doing there?-” - although Zed was starting to get ticklish and irritated, he was abruptly stopped when Impulse finally dug his thumbs inside his belly button. “Well, now who’s a "good boy"? Now we're talking!” - Impulse was full of renewed glee. He went in deep round motions again on the navel, hooking and pushing and pulling it lightly by its interior, fat spilling out the rest of his fingers as he squeezed the area around. Impulse’s dull claws on his otherwise stubby thumbs were going through a whole submersion routine, following the vertical never-healing stitch on Zed’s belly. They went from being sinked into the belly button’s fat from above, to linger a bit inside, getting to the very bottom as the rest of the fingers were fondling the outside flab, to then being dragged down out of the navel, then each thumb being traced back to the starting point in mirroring half circles.

Zed was left near speechless in the moment. It never occurred to him how deep his belly button really is, let alone him being sure if he liked it probed like that. But there was no time for navel-gazing – he noticed something curious. “...So you do like it!” - Impulse slowed down at Zed's inquiry - “I thought you just tolerated me pushing my belly in your face, but your face got so uh- uhm- stupid!”

Impulse was caught. What he thought was him proving himself superior had actually been sheer pleasure, he didn’t even notice that his face was melting nor his words were starting to match Zed’s previous theatrics. “Wait no- Ooh my gosh...” - Impulse’s face slowly met his hands as it radiated red the most that night. He felt other hands slowly creeping in on his gut again. “Now-now, not like its a bad thing”- Zed leaned forward. “... I can keep going?” - Impulse cautiously put his hands away from his face. “Yeah, yeah,” - and they were swiftly coaxed to be on his gut. “Good,” - Zed then looked over on a couple of steaks and pumpkin pies that were left - “... Should keep you occupied though...”