Restoring old properties is a hobby of mine. A very profitable one. And in my travels I’ve definitely experienced a good bit of “if these walls could talk” scenarios — but nothing tops my most recent encounter.

Not long ago, I took a job in a sleepy town right after a vicious storm had swept through the area. I was working on a red-brick beauty — a hidden gem of an abandoned house that had fallen into disrepair.

I was inspecting a massive brass and crystal chandelier’s wiring, while a crew of other guys I’d hired worked on the fireplace in the parlor. They were blasting music so they could hear their tunes over their stone-chiseling and hammering.

As such, I had on my noise-canceling headphones and never heard the front door open. But when I felt a draft on my back, I turned around. A woman stood in the open doorway — quite possibly the most stunning woman I’d ever seen.

She had shoulder-length blonde hair, ice-blue eyes and long, long legs. She wore a red wool coat and stiletto-heeled boots that accentuated her pins. I couldn’t help myself. I did a double take, and my eyes lingered on her feet before my gaze rose upward. Between the hem of her coat and the top of her boots, I spied a sliver of her silky nylons, which only made me want to know what else was underneath her elegant clothes.

I pulled off my headgear, and she met my stare with her own unflinching gaze as she said, “I hope I haven’t come at a bad time.”

“No, uh, not at all,” I told her as I hurried down the ladder. “And you’re?”

“The owner’s sister,” she said, extending her hand. My pulse quickened when I noticed her leather gloves matched her boots.

“Oh, he told me you’d come by to check on things but didn’t mention your name,

Mrs. …” I let my voice trail off, hoping she’d fill in the blanks. She did.

She smirked and said, “I’m nobody’s Mrs. Call me Anna.”

“Anna.” I looked into her eyes and then let go of her hand. “I’m Chris. Jeff and Rob are in the other room.”

“And you’re the lead on this project?” she asked.

I felt nervous as her eyes roved up and down my body, but I tried to play it cool.

“Yes, ma’am, I am, so any questions or concerns, you bring them to me.”

“You better believe I will,” Anna said, putting her hand on her hip and looking me square in the eye.

“I’m at your service,” I blurted out. I felt my cheeks redden as I realized how cheesy that sounded, but she smiled.

“I like hearing that, especially from a good-looking man.”

My breath caught in my throat as she looked me up and down like a lioness sizing up her prey.

“Anytime,” I said, laughing nervously.

I was struck by a conflicting flurry of emotions. I felt simultaneously anxious, horny and vulnerable.

Anna reached out and patted away some of the dust on my flannel shirtsleeve as she told me, “I’ll be back soon, Chris.”

Before I could say anything else, she turned and left, her heels click-clacking as she crossed the marble-tiled floor and exited the building. I looked at the part of my sleeve where she’d touched me, and I felt something stirring inside me that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Anna stopped by the house almost every day after that, pacing the halls in her high-heeled boots as she took note of our progress for her out-of-town sibling. The other guys called her “ice queen” behind her back, but her cool, aristocratic demeanor mesmerized me. Where they saw demands, I saw high standards. I threw myself into my work, dreaming of how pleased Anna would be when she saw the house — and hoping against hope she might let me serve her on a more personal level.

Two long weeks passed before I got the chance to be alone with Anna — but in retrospect, those earlier visits seemed to be her way of sussing me out.

But on that fateful Friday night, the other guys were eager for their weekend to start and were ready to bolt at five on the dot. I’d planned to stay behind, dealing with yet another antique light fixture, this one in the master bathroom. As the crew was leaving, Anna showed up.

“Hey Chris,” one of the guys bellowed. “Anna’s here.”

“Come on up,” I shouted. My pulse quickened as those telltale heels of hers tapped against the hardwood floors. “Anna? I’m in here.” I called out.

Just as she made her way through the doorway, I switched on the refurbished chandelier. It shone to perfection above the claw-foot tub and the green marble tile.

“Oh my God,” Anna gasped. “It’s done already?” She looked around, and her face broke into a huge smile. “This is unbelievable.”

“You like it?” I asked, feeling my cheeks flush. Her coat was open, revealing a black sweater dress, which she’d paired with her always present boots.

“I feel like I’m in ‘Downton Abbey,’” Anna joked, looking at herself in the brass double-mirror. “It’s perfect! I can’t believe you were able to salvage the original fixtures — and the tub!”

“The whole place is just about ready. The boiler works, too.”

“It’s a spa fit for a queen.” She turned and looked at me.

“As it should be,” I said softly.

Anna licked her bottom lip and said, “Draw me a bath, Chris. Let’s celebrate.”

“Right now?” I felt like I’d just stuck a fork into a wall outlet.

“Right now,” she repeated. “Don’t make me wait.” She slipped off her coat and stood there in only her boots and dress.

I obliged, turning on the faucet.

“Now what?”

“Now come here and help me with my boots. I know you want to.” She wiggled one leg enticingly.

“Yes, yes I do.” In a flash, I was on my knees in front of her, kissing and caressing the vamps and legs of those gorgeous boots. I nuzzled the soft leather shaft, feeling the shapely leg beneath the cowhide. “You are exquisite.”

She looked down at me and said, “Go on, Chris. Unzip them.”

I carefully removed both of her boots, helping her balance as I set her pretty feet free. She was wearing black thigh-high nylons — the lacy tops just barely hidden beneath the hem of her dress.

My cock bulged in my jeans; I wanted her so badly. I massaged her toned calves, and then took turns rubbing each of her feet as she sat on the edge of the tub. I alternated between sucking on her perfectly pedicured toes through her stocking and letting those nylon-covered piggies caress my face.

Just when I thought I couldn’t be any more turned on, Anna lifted her dress and reached into her panties, touching herself as she breathlessly ordered, “Don’t stop.”

There was no way I could let her down. I reverently peeled down her thigh-highs, kissing and stroking her bare flesh as the nylon drifted away. Once both feet were bare, I kissed every inch of her arches and heels, and then again sucked on her toes, the nails of which were painted candy-apple red. They were delightful.

Anna kept touching herself, and I was lost in a dizzying fugue of feet until she tapped my shoulder.

“Chris, the tub’s almost full.”

I looked up and caught my breath to say, “So it is.”

Anna took her hand out of her panties and offered me her juice-coated fingers.

I briefly savored her musky flavor until she demanded my services again.

“Now, cut the water and help undress me, Chris.”

To say I quickly obeyed is almost an understatement. I couldn’t get her naked fast enough. Anna was sheer perfection, from her expressive eyes and pouty lips down to her full, round breasts and slick pussy.

I took her hand and helped her ease into the bath.

“Aren’t you joining me?”

“You don’t have twist my arm,” I replied, hurriedly stripping down. I felt her eyes hungrily devouring every inch of me.

“Nice muscles.” Anna flicked a splash of water toward me. “I hope you’re game for anything.”

“For you? Anything at all.”

Once I was in the giant tub with her, Anna wrapped her feet around my cock.

I gasped at the sight of her perfectly pedicured toes sliding along my erection barely beneath the balmy bathwater.

“You worked so hard,” Anna whispered. “Let me help you relax.”

With one foot on either side of my stiff shaft, she worked it up and down, taking me to a foot-loving nirvana that no woman had ever let me experience before.

“You like my toes squeezing the head of your dick?” she teased.

“Oh yes!” I groaned.

Anna rolled my shaft between her arches and asked, “Are you ready to fuck?”

All I could do was nod — and try to keep from blowing my load immediately.

Anna climbed into my lap, and we shared a wet, passionate kiss as she slowly lowered herself on to my waiting member.

“Oh my God,” she moaned, “you feel so fucking good!”

“I just wanna make you come,” I grunted, squeezing her ass as she rode me. “I’d do anything to please you!”

Anna bit her lip and wiggled her hips, grinding her clit against my pelvis. The water sloshed around as the intensity of our movements grew, and before long, we both climaxed. Afterward, Anna had me towel her off, paying special attention to her feet, of course.

Anna and I went on to christen each renovated room. She was the most amazing woman I’d ever fucked, but I wasn’t sure where things were going — or if she’d want them to go further.

But after the house was complete, a courier hand-delivered a letter from Anna. She had requested the “retention of my personal services — indefinitely.”

That was one job I was happy to take.