Threaten to reveal her sordid secret

Well, I turned up on Tuesday and hung around for a few hours to try to get some ideas, probably just outside your place @the_imperfect. I managed to see Samantha a few times, taking out the trash, heading for the groceries etc. She wore quite a high buttoned blouse tucked into a pair of tight jeans, and although a little petite as you say, she has a nice figure, and an easy, winning smile which she flashed freely to anyone she encountered. Definitely someone worth hanging around for.

Her house and garden appeared neat and tidy so there didn't appear to be much scope for an intro for a handyman or gardener. I would need to come up with something a little more inventive.

I had a look through her trash once she was back inside. I got a little information on her, possibly even enough to steal her id but I wasn't interested in defrauding her. Besides that would take time and I was looking for a way of opening her legs soon. There was a discarded pregnancy test, with two lines showing. I couldn't remember if that was positive or negative. I wasn't sure if that helped, whichever it was. I would have to think about it.

On Wednesday, I returned, still without much of an idea, but undaunted. Where there's a will there's a way, and I intended to have my way! Today was a nicer day and she wore a more revealing light sun dress. I admired her smooth legs. I tailed her to a visit with friends but nothing that presented an opportunity. I noticed that Samantha appears to be a stay at home wife. Her husband leaving at 8.15 for work and returning after 6pm. That seemed to give me almost 10 hours to work with once I worked out what to do. That should be ample. In the early afternoon, I noticed Samantha chatting with a neighbor next door, and while she appeared breezy and charming, as soon as her neighbor turned to go, her mask dropped and she appeared to be, what, worried? haunted? frightened? Hmm. Possibilities, was I imagining it, or was she hiding something?

Thursday. Getting slightly desperate. I'm only in town for the week. I have to head by Sunday at the latest, so I need to make a move soon. I had weighed up a couple of direct options involving knocking at the door and demanding entry, but thought there was one tactic that was worth a try first. I wrote her a nice letter.

Samantha,
I know all about your little "Secret". If you don't want it revealed, come to room 57 at the Red Hawk Motel at 10am tomorrow. Do not wear panties.

It might not work, but I was banking on her having something hidden that was enough to make her turn up, and the last sentence was to make sure she had an idea what she was tuning up for. I slipped it under her door, knocked it and ran away quickly.

Maybe she didn't have a secret big enough to turn up at a random location for an almost certain fucking by a stranger, but there's an almost certainly apocryphal tale, attributed to both Arthur Conan Doyle and Mark Twain, that they telegraphed a dozen important men with the message "Flee. All is discovered!" By the morning all 12 had packed their bags and left town!

I figured she would probably turn up. Everyone's got a secret.

Anyway. I'll find out tomorrow. I'll let you know.