"Yadda, Mamoru, not in a restaurant," Usagi protested, pulling Mamoru's hand away from her melons. It was futile, as Mamoru immediately reached back under her shirt and cupped his hands around her ripe melons, kneading it softly. He flicked the brown stem at the center of the melon as Usagi let out a fruitful moan.
"Do you want my hard cucumber?" Mamoru asked, whispering into her ears. His hands were now tracing its way down the melon patch to the cabbage patch. "Because I'm ready to spill my seeds into your succulent cabbage crack."
Usagi was unable to reply, the warmth of his breathe sent shivers down her spine. Mamoru had made it impossible; under the table cloth, his hands had slipped under her skirt and bypassed the thin protective wall that was covering her cabbage patch. Mamoru parted her young, budding cabbage leaves with his fingers. He slipped a slender finger into the vegitative crevice and began servicing it with the immense power like that of a milking machine.
Usagi was no longer able to control it. She plowed and unzipped Mamoru's farming field to reveal a long, intimidating cucumber. She was going to enjoy this, but first the cucumber needed to be watered. Making sure there was plenty of fluid in her mouth, she knelt down, her face buried in the musty farming field, and began watering the cucumber. It was big; she had to make sure not to choke.
"YES YES," Mamoru shouted, with a look of pure organic ecstasy.
"Um… Baby, what are you talking about?" Usagi asked. She did look amused.
Mamoru looked across the table at a fully dressed Usagi and frowned. It had all been a dream.