Sins of a Sinner Ch. 01

Mark Sawyer closed his office door and sat back down behind his desk. This last week had been something else. Hell, these last six months had been unbelievable. He just turned 31, 2 years removed from his Stanford MBA and he thought his life would be perfect. Then it all changed. Cheryl, his wife of 6 years, left him for another man. It didn't matter who he was, only that his college sweetheart had been unfaithful, broke his heart and was now dumping him. They had even been talking about starting a family, about how they would spend their life together. Without any warning, she told him she needed her ‘space.' Then he was served with divorce papers. Maybe it was a good thing when his boss Mr. Davis offered him a transfer to the Midwest three months later. He could use a break, a fresh start. His career would be fast tracked if he could turn around the Indiana office. So, with nothing more than heartache and frustration, he packed his bags, left everything he knew in California, and headed East to what he thought would be a simpler life.

He arrived early that first Monday morning, eager to put his old life behind him. He was all smiles as he was introduced to his new co-workers. His crisp new shirt framed his broad shoulders and his new tie accentuated his tanned, athletic body. His blue eyes sparkled as he shook hands with each new member of the team. The Indiana office had shown only a slight profit despite solid production and sales number and it was his job to improve the bottom line. Now, late Friday afternoon, his brown hair was messed and his eyes bloodshot from the mountains of papers he'd read through.

"Am I right about this?" he thought to himself. He'd gone over and over the data he had collected. He spent the past 3 weeks analyzing all of the figures, accounts and receipts, and his only conclusion was that someone was stealing from the company. He spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about how he should handle this.

Mark decided that he would do a little more digging before he went further. He suspected the bookkeeper, Paula Thornton, had been funneling money into several dummy accounts. Not outrageous amounts, but over time, approximately $45,000. Quite ingenious really, just a number of small, sporadic deposits here and there in dummy accounts that wouldn't draw much attention. Mark needed to be sure that these definitely were not legitimate payments before he went about accusing an employee of theft.

Paula Thornton was a well respected employee who had been with the company for almost 15 years. From Mark's early dealings with Paula, he surmised that she was well liked by her co-workers. She was not a strikingly attractive or unattractive woman, just kind of plain and nondescript. She was about 5-1 or 5-2, sandy brown hair with light brown eyes behind wire rimmed glasses. It was hard to describe her physically. Average sized he thought. She dressed casually, yet professionally. Her blouses, shirts and sweaters were loose. She always wore skirts, none of which rose above mid calf. Not a lot of jewelry and her hair was either pulled back or done conservatively.

Mark thought for a moment, "She doesn't draw much attention to herself. Kind of like her crime." He accessed her company files and learned that she was 44 years old, married, with two children.

He had dug a little deeper and had learned that Paula's husband, George, had been out of work for 4-1/2 years now. He had gone through a series of menial jobs, but for the past 2 years he had found his ‘calling' as a part-time Pastor/Reverend/Deacon or whatever he called it. Car payments, food, clothing for the kids, and a mortgage would be tough to make on her salary. It's not like George couldn't find steady work. He just seemed to be lazy. Paula, by all accounts, was supportive of George's calling, even though it provided little income. Mark surmised that divorce would have been out of the question. It made sense to him why Paula would take the money. Strangely, he felt a slight twinge of compassion for her. She was in a tough position, and now he would have to make it worse. He didn't really want to call the authorities but he couldn't let this pass or continue. Besides, he didn't make her take the money. She did it of her own free will. Plus, he had his career to think about. Not that it was the most important thing in his life. That was Cheryl, and look what happened there. "Might as well make the cash," Mark had reasoned.

Mark decided to wait a week. He wanted to spend the time studying and verifying all of his facts; to be sure that he was indeed 100% correct in his accusation. Each day, from afar, he would watch Paula. It was during this time that it occurred to Mark that his first assessment of Paula might have been a bit off. Oh, he was sure she had performed the ‘creative accounting,' but he was now paying more attention to Paula and he began to notice her features. Behind those glasses was an attractive face. Her body seemed to be better than he originally thought. Her waist was narrow, yet her hips curved very nicely. Even though her tops were ill-fitting, it became clear to Mark that Paula also had rather large breasts. He watched her from across the room as she bent over the file cabinets. "Not bad for two kids. A nice wrack as well. What a waste. Her with that loser," Mark thought. It was then he noticed he was semi aroused.

Mark went back to his office and shut the door. As he sat down behind his desk, he realized that this was the first time since he found out about Cheryl's cheating that he had become aroused. And by an older woman who had been stealing from his company. An old, preacher's wife who was married to a loser with a couple of kids. "God, am I fucked up or what?" he thought. But as he sat there, looking out the office window, Mark began to let his mind wander. Slowly, a small smile grew on his face. "This could get interesting," he said to himself.

Friday rolled around. Mark had spent a lot of time thinking about his course of action. Around 4:30, he called Paula Thornton. "Ms. Thornton, this is Mark Sawyer. I need to see you in my office before the end of the day today."

A momentary pause was followed by "Sure Mr. Sawyer. I'll be there in just a minute". They both hung up the phone and Mark reached behind him, semi-closing his blinds.

"Perfect," he thought. Sitting back in his chair he heard a knock at his door.

"Come in."

Paula opened the door and walked in. "You wanted to see me Mr. Sawyer?" She stood in the doorway, wearing a white cotton blouse, a gray wool skirt and with her hair and make-up neat but unremarkable. Her face seemed flush, either from nervousness or annoyance of a meeting being scheduled this late in the day on Friday.

Mark did not look up from his papers. "Yes Ms. Thornton. Come in and close the door please. I'll be with you in a minute."

Paula closed the door and moved to the front of Mark's desk, hands folded in front of her, uneasy, yet acting cool and collected while not really knowing what was happening. "What is this all about?" she thought. After a moment, Paula nervously said, "May I sit down?"

Still mulling over his files, "Of course" Mark replied as he motioned for her to be seated. Mark purposely and deliberately took his time going over the papers in front of him. Paula sat there, watching him, trying to see what he was looking at so intently. Out of the corner of his eyes, Mark watched as Paula crossed her legs, her hands folded in her lap again. Finally, looking up into her eyes, Mark said, "Well Ms. Thornton, we seem to have a problem here."

"What do you mean?"

"I was transferred to this office to make it more profitable. As you are well aware, I've spent the last few weeks going over all of the sales reports and accounts and I've noticed a few irregularities. These figures here indicate that over the last 4 years, you've issued checks totaling almost $45,000 to accounts that I cannot verify as our customers. I've gone over this on numerous occasions and have investigated these accounts with the banks and have determined that you've been stealing from this company." Mark leaned forward onto his desk, pushing the file toward Paula.

Nervously, Paula argued. "This must be some kind of mistake. I don't know what you're talking about. I've never stolen anything in my life." She sat back in her chair feigning indignity at the accusation. As Mark looked into her eyes, he saw fear. He smiled to himself.

"I know you've worked here a long time Ms. Thornton. I really do regret having to phone the police." Mark reached over, picking up the phone.

"I was hoping you would at least treat me with some respect. No explanation of what happened. Hell, you didn't even take the time to look at the file and try to see what I'm talking about. Yet you sit here and insult my intelligence. You give me no choice but to have you arrested."

Mark slowly began dialing. Panicked, Paula lurched forward in her chair. Anxiously, she shouted, "Wait!" Lowering her eyes, almost surrendering, "I'm sorry."

Smiling to himself, Mark stopped dialing, yet he did not lower the receiver. "I know," he said "but yet you still stole from me." His eyes staring at her, watching as she realized her predicament.

"Please Mr. Sawyer. I didn't want to do it, but the bills, my kids. They needed to eat. Please. I'm sorry. I hoped to put it back before anyone would catch on. I know I don't deserve it, but if you give me a chance, I'll fix this. I promise. No one will need to know."

Putting the phone down, Mark sat back in his chair and said, "Fix this? You'll have to do more than that I'm afraid. Especially with all of the disgrace and shame a felony conviction would bring to you and your family." He saw the faint glimmer of hope in her face.

"Anything Mr. Sawyer. Just name it. I can't have my family and friends know about this. I'll lose everything and everyone who matters to me. Please sir, I'll do anything. Just don't call the police or fire me." Paula pleaded with him. She leaned forward towards his desk, her hands tense as she held them together in her lap.

"No one ever really means it when they say they would do ‘ANYTHING' Ms. Thornton." His eyes slowly traced the features of her face. "But let's just see about that." Mark stood up, slowly walking around his desk towards his office door.

"He's going to give me a chance," she thought to herself as Mark moved about the office. "All is not lost," she prayed silently.

Mark could feel her eyes following him, watching him as he locked his office door with an audible "click", and returned to his desk. As he sat down, his eyes stared into hers. "Let's see."

For the moment, Paula sat there confused, not sure of what was happening but relieved that he was being kind to her. She heard him say "Stand up."

Slowly, still not comprehending his meaning, she rose to her feet. It was then she saw his eyes as they slowly moved over her body. His stare began at her face and moved to her chest. From the time she was a teenager, Paula had always dressed to not draw any attention to her body. Her breasts had developed early on, becoming much larger than all of her friends' and she hated the way men looked at them. Over the years, she had gotten to be an expert at concealing her curves. At this precise moment, her heart sank and her stomach began to ache. "No," she thought. "This can't be happening to me".

Mark leaned back in his chair, "Turn around for me. Slowly."

Paula looked down at the floor, staring at her low-heeled shoes with her toes pointed together. Almost without thinking, she slowly began to turn around. She could feel his eyes as they moved over her body. First her chest, her hips, her thighs, down her legs, and then up the backs of her legs as she turned away from him. She could feel the burn of his stare into her buttocks. Turning back to face him, she began to fill with despair at her predicament. Her eyes fixed to the carpet in front of his desk, for fear that she would start to cry if she were to look at him.

Mark could feel her uneasiness from across the desk. The desperation in her voice as she said, "I'm so sorry."

He again smiled, saying, "I know you are. But you need to do more than be sorry. You can start by unbuttoning your blouse."

Leaning back in his chair, Mark was a bit taken back as Paula's eyes shot up from the floor, almost glaring at him. "The hell I will! What kind of woman do you take me for?" Her voice trembled with anger, fear and indignation. "I'm a married woman with two children. A Preacher's wife. I'm not doing that for you or anyone else." She stood before him, her arms at her side with each hand clenched in fisted defiance. "Who the hell does this jerk think he is?" she thought.

Mark slowly reached for the phone again. He began to dial. Looking at the keys he said, "You are either going to unbutton that blouse for me or the police. You decide." He dialed the third number.

Anxiously, Paula spoke, "I'll tell the police what you're doing. Your career will be ruined."

Dialing the fourth number, Marked chuckled and smirked. "Prove it. It's your word against mine. However, the proof of your crime is all in that file. Don't worry. I have copies of that one. I knew you wouldn't live up to your word. Enjoy the rest of your life, or what's left of it." He dialed the fifth number.

Paula watched as his finger pressed the sixth button. Her mind raced, "What do I do? I'll be ruined. My kids. Everything." Slowly, she began to sob, "STOP! Please."

Mark looked up, his finger just above the last number, phone still in his hand, he said nothing. He stared into her eyes and then slowly moved down to her chest.

Her head down, Paula watched as her fingers began to unbutton the top button of her blouse. She could see that Mark was not moving, neither dialing nor hanging up. Tears began to fill her eyes as her fingers found the second button. Sniffling as tears rolled down her cheek, she unbuttoned her third button, then finally the last button. Putting the phone down, Mark leaned back in his chair, "Now, take it off."

Paula began weeping, sobbing loudly, as she pulled her blouse from inside her skirt and slid it off her shoulders. She felt the cool air on her chest and stomach. Removing her blouse, she quickly dropped it on the chair next to her. Instinctively, she folded her arms across her chest, her hands cupping, trying to hide her breasts from this sleazebag's gaze. On the contrary, all she was doing was amplifying her cleavage. The round fullness of her breasts, now pushed together even more so than with just her brassiere, caressed the small gold cross she wore on a thin delicate gold chain.

Mark sat back, his eyes studying, drinking in the beauty of her full chest. He smiled to himself, wondering if she was more embarrassed to be standing in front of him like this, in that Wal-mart issue bra, or that she had gotten caught. His cock began to stiffen in his dress pants, uncomfortably constricted by his boxers. "Keep going. Now the bra. Don't make me tell you twice." He was enjoying the upper hand he held over this woman.

He watched with slight astonishment as Paula said nothing and reached behind her and unclasped her bra. She was now sobbing uncontrollably, her bra straps sliding down her arms, the cups off of her breasts, the tears down her cheeks. She quickly threw her bra next to her blouse and immediately covered her breasts with her hands. "Put your hands down," Mark said in an angry tone that surprised both of them.

Paula did as she was told, her body now shaking as she sobbed. Mark watched as her large breasts moved in rhythm to her sobs. Mark leered at her chest. Her breasts were much bigger than he thought, heavier, at least 40DD. The weight had caused Paula's breasts to sag with age, but only just a bit. Her nipples were slightly upturned. The areolas were light brown with an almost pinkish hue. Paula's tears had begun to run down her chest, down her breasts. Her nipples getting hard from the cool air on her warm tear stained skin. "Magnificent!" Mark thought. "Look at those tits."

Saying nothing, Mark sat in his chair for a time, watching as Paula continued to sob. Slowly her crying began to subside and Mark realized that his cock was fully hard now. He couldn't decide what got him more excited. Was it the sight of this woman with her beautiful big tits, topless, standing in front of him, or was it the power he was now feeling over her? Either way, he was more excited at this moment than he had ever been with Cheryl.

Paula's began recomposing herself and she now looked up at Mark as he sat back in his chair. She could see him staring, leering at her breast. Slowly, his eyes rose to meet hers. They burned through, almost to the depths of her soul. The intensity of his stare caused her to look away for a second, breaking the moment. She took off her glasses, placing them on top of her discarded bra and wiped here eyes. She looked over and caught his eyes again as he began to speak. "You have incredible tits. Magnificent. Absolutely gorgeous." His words made Paula cringe.

"He's just a little boy who likes looking at breasts" she thought, trying to reason with herself. She knew how silly it sounded, but she was looking for any glimmer of hope to cling to. Hadn't she been humiliated enough? Paula said, "Ok, you've had your thrill. I promise, I'll get back the money. I won't tell anyone about this and we can go on as nothing happened. It will never happen again. I'm sorry."

Paula began to lean towards her pile of abandoned clothes when she heard Mark begin to laugh. "You can't be serious?" Paula lost her last shred of hope when she heard him say, "Lift up your skirt." She shot another angry, defiant look at him, only to be met with his stern, heartless stare. Tears began again as she bent forward slightly, her large breasts swaying as she reached for the hem of her skirt. Without looking up, she lifted her skirt to just above her waist. She could feel the cool air on her thighs as she stood there in front of him. She could feel his eyes moving over her legs, her panties. She began to sob again.

Mark's eyes slowly followed the upward movement of her skirt. Her legs were pale white, with nicely curved thighs that obviously didn't get much sun. He watched as the skirt rose to her full hips and her white panties became visible. "Definitely Wal-mart," he thought. However inexpensive they were, they hugged her hips nicely, accentuating her shapely hips even more. Mark stood up from behind his desk. The outline of his erection was clearly visible through his trousers, but Paula deliberately did not look at it. He moved behind her. "Show me your ass," was all he could say.

His words made Paula cry again, but she slowly lifted her skirt again, this time from behind. Marks eyes again followed the skirt as it rose higher. He saw the curvature of her ass, rounder than he thought it would be. "A bit soft too," he said to himself. But she was 44 years old and had spent a considerable amount of time behind a desk. Her hips flared out nicely as well. "Take off your panties" he heard himself order her. He watched as Paula let go of her skirt, and grabbed the tops of her panties, lowering both of them until her panties had reached her ankles. She began sobbing again as she stepped out, picked them up and tossing them on the pile with her other clothes.

Mark stood behind Paula. For the first time, he could smell her perfume as it blended with her humiliation. They were intoxicating! "Lean forward and place your hands on my desk," he told her. With tears again rolling down her cheeks, she did as she was told.

As she bent slightly forward, Paula could feel her breasts hanging on each side of her gold cross necklace. She felt Mark moving behind her. She felt the material of her skirt moving up, the cool air on the backs of her thighs, on her buttocks. He held the skirt with one hand above her waist, pinned to the small of her back. Mark stood there, admiring Paula's ass. "God, she is fucking sexy!" he thought. "Much better than that fucking bitch Cheryl ever could hope to be."