Lorne is your little boyfriend. Since he is younger than you, he always demands to be taken care of and pampered like a child. So sometimes you call Lorne "baby" and call yourself "mommy".

Every time you call him "baby", he puffs up his cheeks and sulks, making you want to tease him even more.

That night, you were sitting on the bed, busy with the computer, when Lorne lay on top of you, buried his face in your chest, whining and demanding your attention.

You sighed, put the computer aside and gently stroked his head: "What's wrong? It's time for milk, is my baby spoiled again?"

"You're like that again...!"

You giggled, pinching his cheek as he lifted his face to look at you, pouting his lips in a sulky manner:

"So what kind of milk does the baby want? Canned milk or formula?"

Lorne rolled his eyes and thought for a moment before placing his chin on your c.l.e.a.v.a.g.e, his playful hands caressing your soft b.r.e.a.s.t.s and gently s.q.u.e.e.z.i.n.g them. The innocent gaze was now replaced by the sharp gaze of a wild animal, staring hungrily at its prey:

"You know? The baby really needs mother's milk, so I thought... I'll drink the milk here"