It was obvious when I arrived at the office this morning that no work was going to be conducted today.

When I saw my co-workers standing in the conference table turned into a bar, doing shots of Grey Goose, I remembered today was only a half-day and our Christmas luncheon was at the Tribeca Grill at one o'clock.

I tried to sneak past the conference room to my office. I still had about two hours of work to do on my project before I could submit it to the client, who wanted to review the conclusions and course of action between Christmas and New Year's, even though I knew the email wouldn't even be opened until after the first of the year.

About ten feet from my office, I walked right into Barbara, one of the Senior Partners of the firm, as she rounded the corner from the East hallway. The papers she had been carrying flew up into the air as she tried to reach out to steady herself against the wall. Unfortunately, she was too far away and tumbled to the floor.

I watched in shock and horror as she went down. The vent of her tailored red silk skirt ripped as she tried to brace her fall, revealing her seamless black sheer stockings and red silk garter hugging her thin sexy thighs.

Her right, black patent leather five inch Stiletto, slid off her foot, exposing her red painted toes through the black nylons, while her reading glasses slipped off her nose, hit the carpet and bounced on the hardwood floor a few feet away.

I just stood there staring at her, silently mortified, realizing I was drinking in this fantasy scene, until she said, "Are you going to stand there undressing me with your eyes, or are you going to help me up, Michael?"

Totally embarrassed, I offered my hand, pulling her up with little effort. I noticed her small hands were very soft and well-manicured, the blood-red nail polish being a stark contrast to her porcelain white skin. I was even more surprised that she actually knew my name, as Senior Partners never have dealings with staff attorneys.

While she readjusted her clothing and inspected the tear in her skirt, I retrieved her heel. It was tiny and very warm. I knelt down in front of her and lifted her foot by her ankle, noticing a thin gold bracelet over her stocking and how small her feet were. I guessed a size 5.

"Hold onto my shoulder," I said, as I guided her foot into her heel.

"Thank you," she replied.

Still kneeling in front of her, I glanced up to her face to capture a warm smile, noticing for the first time, the fullness of her glossy red lips.

As I rose, I glanced at her white silky blouse which was opening where a button popped as she fell. I was rewarded with the sight of the fullness of the underside of her breasts which I mentally determined were nicely sized. Looking longer than I should have, I noticed the 'caught you' frown on her lips and the sexy death stare from her sparkling light brown eyes.

I was mesmerized by her. Although I saw her numerous times in the hallway, this was the first time I was close enough to see how beautiful she was. Her perfect makeup complimented her eyes and her shoulder length auburn hair with champagne highlights. I finally focused my stare as our eyes met.

She smiled when she realized my mind was occupied. "Michael, are you alright?"

"Beautiful....I mean, yes, I'm fine. Are you hurt?" I finally asked.

"Other than ripping my skirt and having a young man see much more of me than he deserved to, no. I'm fine, but you need to be more careful walking through the hallways," she cautioned.

"I will, Barbara, I mean, Ms. Taylor. I'm sorry about your skirt," I said, bending down to retrieve her glasses.

"Me too, I can't go to the Christmas luncheon with a ripped skirt. I'll have to stop at my apartment first to change. It's going to be awful trying to get a cab now, though," she grimaced.

"I can take you. After all, it's the least I can do, since I caused this mess," I offered.

"You drove in today?"

"Yes. I wasn't going to go to the luncheon. I made plans to visit my sister after work. She and her husband just separated so my Mom and I were going to take her out for dinner tonight."

"That's so sweet. Never mind, I'll just take a cab. I wouldn't want to see you miss meeting with your family, especially at this time of year."

"No, please let me take you. You'll be waiting in the cold for an hour today. I'll have plenty of time, don't worry," I replied, not really wanting to walk away from this incredible woman.

"Alright, let me get my coat."

"Great. I'll meet you on parking level four by the elevator."

"I'll be there in five minutes," she said walking away, with my eyes clinging to her firm behind. Damn, she looked fantastic, ripped skirt or not.

I abandoned all hope of finishing my project today, rationalizing that no one was really going to look at whatever I sent until after the holiday anyway. I was glad that I stopped at the car wash on my way to work this morning. My ten year old Jaguar would have looked a little dingy if I'd not gotten it cleaned and hot waxed earlier.

I pulled the car up to the elevator doors and waited for Barbara to appear. A few seconds passed and I saw her emerge. Being a gentleman, I opened the front passenger door for her as she glanced at my black Jag, and then slid into the soft black leather seat with ease. I was glad to have remembered to have Armor All applied to the seats. I watched as her skirt slid up her thighs, revealing those red silk garters and black sheer stockings once again.

I closed the door and walked around the car with a satisfied grin on my face. When I got in, she said, "You do enjoy looking at my legs, don't you?"

Fearing termination, I paused before answering, locking my eyes with hers.

"Before you answer that question, remember we are no longer at work right now and I'm not someone who controls your future with the firm," she said, smiling then biting her lip.

"In that case, Yes. I think you have very sexy legs," I replied, shocking myself for being so candid.

Waiting for the worst, she surprised me by saying, "I've noticed you staring at them for weeks now. It's kind of a turn on to have someone looking at a forty year old woman with lust in his eyes," she replied, flashing a naughty smile.

"That's a relief. I thought you were going to be angry. I tried to be discreet. I guess I wasn't."

"Didn't you think it odd for me to be caught in so many compromising positions? I remember you almost dropped your coffee when I was dangling my heel and actually let it drop off my foot the other day. The look on your face when you saw my royal blue nail polish under my white stockings was incredible," she teased.

"I have to admit that I do have a leg and foot fetish. It was even more exciting catching a glimpse of someone untouchable, like you."

"You think I'm untouchable?" she said with a devilish grin.

"Well, yeah."

Laughing, she said, "We better go before someone gets the wrong idea if they see me in your car," she said laughing.

"You're right; I wouldn't want to start a scandal. So, where do you live?"

"Two, East 61st Street."

"Okay, over by the Pierre Hotel."

"Actually, it is the Pierre Hotel. It's a long story, but I live in the Penthouse Grand Suite," she said, watching to see how I reacted to that information.

"Wow," was all I could come up with.

"Yeah, my parents left me pretty well off."

The drive to the Pierre was quick. When I pulled up, the doorman opened Barbara's door and greeted her warmly. "Good morning, Miss Taylor," he said reaching for her hand to help her out of the car.

"Hi, Henry, would you please have the car parked? We should be down in about an hour or so."

"No problem, Miss Taylor, just call before you come down and I'll have it parked right in front," Henry replied.

"Thanks, Henry."

Hesitantly, I got out of the car and met Barbara on the sidewalk, where the Bellman was holding the door open for us. I'd never been inside the Pierre Hotel before and was immediately taken in by its lavish decor. Barbara watched my reaction to the environment which I was totally unaccustomed to. I immediately realized how far apart on the social and economic scale we actually were. She smiled knowingly at me that it was truly an impressive place to call home.

"It's a little intimidating at first, but you get used to it. The staff is wonderful and they become extended family."

Taking my hand in hers, she guided me to the elevator. Once inside, she inserted a key into the panel and the doors closed. When they opened, we stepped into a black and white marble foyer that led into a spacious living room with floor to ceiling windows that provided a breathtaking, unobstructed view of Central Park. I stood there in awe, since I've never seen the park other than street level. It was beautiful.

Barbara was greeted by her live-in housekeeper Nora, a beautiful Dominican girl around twenty-four years old.

"Nora, this is Michael. Would you please get him something to drink while I change?"

"Yes, Ms. Barbara. What would you like to drink Mr. Michael?" Nora asked.

"Nora, please just call me Michael. I'd like a Scotch on the rocks, if that's not too much trouble."

"No trouble at all, Michael. What brand do you prefer? We have a fully stocked bar."

Barbara said, "Why don't you take Michael into the lounge and let him pick what he wants from the bar?"

"Certainly, Ms. Barbara," Nora replied.

Smiling, Barbara walked down a different hallway to her changing room, my eyes glued to those sexy legs. Looking over her shoulder, catching me yet again, she shook her head and laughed, while stopping to lift her legs and slide her heels off. She turned around, put her hands on her hips with one heel in each hand and said, "Go."

I smiled and walked toward Nora who waited for me around the corner. When I turned the corner, I was totally blown away. It was really a bar lounge. Nora went behind the bar and pointed to the Scotch section. I changed my mind, seeing and selecting Bushmills Irish Whisky instead. Nora retrieved a double old fashion glass added some ice, and poured me a generous three fingers of the whiskey.

"I'll leave the bottle on the bar for you, Michael. If you need anything, just pick up the phone and dial 1. It will automatically go to my cell phone," she said.

"Thank you, Nora."

"You're welcome, Michael. Enjoy your drink."

"I will thanks."

While waiting for Barbara, I walked around the lounge, amazed that people actually lived like this. The lounge was a replica of a full bar, on the order of the Oyster Bar at the Plaza Hotel. It had a mirrored wall and about ten cozy seating arrangements with cocktail tables and an oversize couch facing the picture window, also overlooking Central Park.

I nervously finished my drink quickly, walked back to the bar and poured myself a second one to calm down. The magnitude of Barbara's worth was overwhelming. I was starting to think I should just thank her for the drink and take my leave, when Barbara returned wearing a short, low cut, black cocktail dress that perfectly cradled her full breasts, creating a powerfully distracting view of her cleavage. A diamond pendant brought your eyes directly to the top of her breasts, where it hung proudly in the abyss.

She also wore a pair of gold peep toe pumps and replaced the black sheer stockings with an ultra- nude pair that made her legs appear to be bare. I was mesmerized. Barbara was teasing my foot and leg fetish. Her smile told me she was in a playful mood, so I relaxed and said, "Barbara, you look stunning. I'm kind of glad that your skirt ripped."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Michael. I think I'll join you for a drink. What are you having?"

"Bushmills on the rocks. It's my favorite."

"I may have underestimated your tastes, Michael."