"They're in the kitchen. They're fucking right there on the counter."
"Tell me what they look like," the blind man said. He had his hand on my arm again.
"She looks like the kind of woman you'd see on television," I said. "I don't know about him. I can't see his face because he's going down on her."
"Really?" He leaned forward, until his nose touched the glass.
"She's got her legs wrapped around his shoulders and everything," I told him.
"Wow. What are her tits like? Are they big?"
"I don't know, she's still dressed. She's just pulled up her skirt."
"But what do they look like? Do they look big?"
"They're all right, I guess."
"What about her panties?"
"I don't know. I can't see them. Maybe she wasn't wearing any."
"And her skirt?"
"It's a red floral thing. And a white shirt. Some sort of silk material."
"Oh yeah," he said. "I can see it."
The two of us stood there in silence for a moment, me watching this