Dunston (“call me Jerry”) took her to a sleek conference room. He poured her some design water and started the first question on a time-honored ro...d to surgically precise destruction.“Mrs. Hawkins, how can we be of help?”Peter got the papers served on Tuesday afternoon.The person who served them was a distinctive, elderly man in a fine suit – graying hair at his temples. His voice had a cultivated British accent. He kept it low. No need to upset anyone at the office, was there?Peter knew there. Back in the ‘day’ in Amsterdam there existed besides the usual video booth arcades, peep shows. Something of a relic of the sixties. It consisted of a circular room, with booths along the circumference. Each booth had a window and a coin slot. You put your Gilder in and down dropped the window and you gat a few minutes of watching some woman gyrate and if you were lucky maybe a flash of pussy or tit pressed up to your window.Sadly the peep show seemed it had it’s day and it died a lingering. I began walking around town, sizing up possible destinations.Behind a wall, a garden, an alleyway. Nothing was discreet enough. I made my way down to the seafront about to give up when I came across a public toilet.Great.I walked in, found a free cubicle and locked the door.I placed the magazine top of the closed toilet lid, pulled both my jeans and underwear down and slowly began to massage my cock.It took a little while to get my cock hard, whether it was nerves or excitement I don't know,. That door opened to expel a figure in heels, wearing a beige raincoat and clutching a black purse. A dark scarf protected her hair from the weather and also covered much of her face. She trod cautiously but quickly down the cracked concrete steps as the Ford rolled forward to meet her. Opening the door, she held the purse to her midsection and slid into the passenger side.“Seat belt,” Jerome reminded her. The metal tongue slid into its receptacle with a loud snap, and the vehicle moved forward.