milk addicts

The strength in his hand suddenly became heavier, Song Le twisted his face in pain, and a big hand grabbed his chin.

Ji Shen's gaze has never been so serious about this fleshy little face, over and over again, as if trying to see the DNA genetic information code hidden under layers of flesh and blood.

The little hare was scared, and started to twitch again.

The facial features of this small face that have not yet grown up are stripped one by one, and compared with Song Nai's facial features with the penetrating eagle eyes.

It's kind of like, and kind of like.

The child's cheeks were pinched with two red marks, and his nose bubbled from crying.

One by one, the bubbles popped in the air.

Ji Shen came back to his senses and realized what he was doing, his handsome face froze.

Even if Song Nai really gave birth to other men, it has nothing to do with him, it's just a rabbit nanny kept at home.

Why should he care so much about a nanny, so... so angry.

Staring indifferently at the child who couldn't stop crying again, Ji Shen wiped his little hands and face, picked him up and went back to the French window.

The two rabbits in the family like lying down here to bask in the sun and play. He continued to feed vegetable cakes, trying to divert the little hare's attention.

The little hare was easy to coax, just as good as the sleeping one. After a while, tears rolled down on his eyelashes, he chewed the soft vegetable cake, and started drawing on his stomach again.

Ji Shen snatched his booklet, flipped through it casually, the pages were densely packed with colorful lines, abstract like some kind of alien signal, suddenly, a completely different painting flashed.

He flipped back.

This painting can barely be seen, it is similar to the art homework drawn by elementary school students, and the theme assigned by the teacher is probably the vulgar "happy family".

In this painting, the colors are used properly, at least the sky is blue, the clouds are white, and the shape and outline can be vaguely seen. There are three people standing on the lawn full of flowers, two tall, and a short one in the middle.

"This is drawn by my brother."

The little hare introduced, and raised his head happily, but the man's face was frighteningly cold, and his thin lips were pursed into an inhuman arc.

Teacher Ji gave the painting a failing grade and tore up the page in a snap.

The thorn that pierced into the heart began to swell again, and sour gas gushed out from the small eye that pierced the atrium.

Since you are living in my house now, you are not allowed to think about other families or other men.

Ji Shen thought confidently, as the little hare cried again, he threw the crumbled drawing paper into the trash can.

......

When Song Nai woke up, he kicked the rabbit's leg and was startled by himself.

The familiar smell and furnishings in the room made him feel at ease, but in the next second, he hid in the quilt and blushed.

Did Mr. Ji send him back...

Song Nai was a little confused about his mood, as long as Mr. Ji got close to him, his heart would be pounding, I don't know if it was fear or... like it.

Every time I want to escape, but after hiding away, I can't help thinking about Mr. Ji's meticulous white shirt, Mr. Ji's fingertips, Mr. Ji's expression, everything about Mr. Ji.

The little hare, who had never had such a strange mood before, stared at the ceiling and held his heart in bewilderment.

Wetting his palms a little bit, he woke up with a start, rushed into the bathroom, locked the door, took off his home clothes, and started the daily course, milking.

I don't know why, but the chest produces a lot of milk every day, and it seems that it will never dry up.

It is of course a good thing for a mother to have a lot of milk, but Song Nai is not a mother, and there is no child waiting to be fed.

Breastfeeding is a painful and embarrassing thing, not to mention the pain, and the speed of soiling clothes is too fast. Since two years ago, Song Nai has to change her corset and breast wrap twice a day.

Scrubbing and washing the clothes, and adding some clothes disinfectant to the basin to cover up the smell of milk, Song Nai stared at the white bubbles in his hands, and suddenly thought of something.

He was distressed that his breasts were different from ordinary people, but he had never dared to go to the hospital, and he had no money to go to the hospital to see a doctor. Song Nai had to check the information about breasts on his mobile phone.

He once saw soft articles that advertised that breast milk is better than milk powder. Many novice mothers in the comment area below were distressed that they had no milk and wanted to find other lactating mothers to provide breast milk.

Song Nai put his hands on his flattened chest.

Perhaps, he could try to provide his own milk to mothers in need?

Sending the washed bra together with other clothes into the drying box, Song Nai stood beside him, fiddling with his mobile phone, and finally found a secret website for trading human milk.

After researching for a long time, the little milk rabbit created a new post. The rabbit's claws held the phone and tapped the screen clumsily. The words slowly popped out one by one.

It was almost noon, and the golden shadows of the green branches of the trees passed through the shutters to the feet, and the air was filled with the scent of roses from the garden.

The drying box beeped.

Song Nai read what he wrote again, confirmed that it was correct, gritted his teeth, and clicked publish.

The latest post about selling human milk suddenly appeared at the top of the page. The guilty nanny pressed the screen off in a panic, took out the dried clothes, hurried back to the room, folded the breast wrap and corset, stuffed Into the bottom of all clothes.

He went downstairs, the living room was quiet, only the filter in the fish tank made a slight sound, and a new batch of butterfly carp was replaced inside. Looking through the transparent glass, one carp trailed the other with long snow-white tails. It seems to be swimming in the air.

A small dumpling lay on the green lawn, like a small fish food.

"Lele."

Holding a brand-new set of watercolor pens, the child drew bees flying among the rose bushes on a large notebook. Hearing his brother's cry, he turned his head and laughed.

There was a soft orange-yellow checked cashmere blanket under the small body, and the whole body exuded the smell of toilet water. Song Nai looked at the well-cared-for child in disbelief, squatted down, and asked him, "Where did this cushion come from? "

"One, one was given by my brother," Song Le raised up the colored pens in his hand, and showed his brother with a grin, "These are also."

Song Nai stared at him blankly, "Ah? Isn't it Mr. Ji?"

Song Le shook his head, "It's a brother in black."

"?"

A courier boy sneezed, wiped the sweat off his forehead, and continued to deliver errands to the wealthy people in the villa area on a small electric donkey under the scorching sun.

The stern gentleman gave a lot of tips just now, but there are quite a lot of requirements. Watercolor pens must be edible, notebooks must be insoluble in water, and blankets must be the softest and best. He broke his legs before finding all the ones that meet the requirements. A few things, just this little thing, the price has caught up with his hard work for a month's wages.

That gentleman really dotes on his children.