"now, let me ask you: do you have any idea what i would like to do right now?"

"i can't imagine."

"well, first of all, i want to lie down in a big, wade, fluffy bed. i want to get all comfy and drunk and not have any donkey shit anyway nearby, and i want to have you lying down next to me. and then, little by little, you take off my clothes. sooo tenderly. the way a mother undresses a little child. sooo softly."

"hmmm..."

"and i'm just spacing out  and feeling really nice until, all of a sudden i realize what's happening and i yell at you "Stop it, Watanabe" and then i say "i really like you, Watanabe, but i'm seeing someone else. i can't do this. i'm very proper about these things, believe or not, so please stop. but you don't stop."

"but i would stop", i said.

"i know that. never mind, this is just my fantasy", said Midori. "So then you show it to me. your thing. sticking right up. i immediately cover my eyes, of course, but i can't help seeing it for a split second. and i say, "stop it! don't do that! i don't want anything so big and hard!."

"it's not big. just ordinary."

"never mind, this is a fantasy. so then you put on this really sad face, and i feel sorry for you and try to confort you. there there, poor thing."

"and you are telling me that's what you want to do now"?

"that's it."

"oh, boy."

Norwegian wood, Haruki Murakami