"ice, you better start picking up after yourself." i joke, looking at a toy that the canadian fox had left on the floor.
"you seriously expect him to pick up his toys?" corbyn laughs, getting up from the couch.
"not really," i say, bending down to pick up the squeaky duck, "but i could train him-"
i'm cut off my corbyn suddenly grabbing onto my hips from behind, lightly rocking his hips into my ass, as if he was fucking me.
"corbyn- stop ice is- ice is watching!" i wheeze, laughing so hard i could barely talk.
corbyn just ruts into me harder, grinding against me. my laughs turn to barely-audible whimpers.
"but you're right, our son is watching." corbyn says, suddenly pulling away.
i sit up, straightening my shirt. my cheeks burned, and i was breathing a bit harder.
ice just sat in his dogbed by the couch, his head cocked to the side.