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It's been a long time since I've posted a story. I hope it was worth the wait. I really enjoy getting your comments or emails, so let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!

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I never intended for any of this to happen the way it did. I hope you can believe that. When I offered him my phone, it was merely to be polite and do a stranger a good turn. When I offered for him to come stay with me, it was as a person with means helping out someone who was going to go without. When I offered him a job, it was as an experienced businessman helping a young man just setting out in the world.

There was never any intention for any of this to happen. I never intended for him to fall in love with me. I never intended to take advantage of someone who was down on his luck. I never intended to be intimately involved with someone who was not only more than a decade younger, but who was also my employee. And I never intended to be sexually aroused by a young man. I may not have intended any of these things, but they all happened.

I met Luke on a plane to southern California almost a year ago. He was young, just out of college I guessed, or maybe a stint with the Peace Corps. I was heading out from the Midwest to meet some clients, fulfill some contracts and hopefully drum up some new business. My plans had changed a couple of times and I was booked in one of the last seats near the rear of the plane. Luke was seated next to me.

He was dressed in the mismatched way young men of his generation dress, and though obviously short on cash, he was clean cut and tidy. He was thin, but looked wiry and healthy. He spied my cell phone on my belt as I was getting settled. Very politely, he asked if he might borrow it to call someone in California to arrange a ride from the airport. Of course, he would give me money for the call, he assured me rapidly, holding out a couple of one dollar bills.

"Don't worry about it," I said. "It's a company phone. Just make your call."

He thanked me and dialed someone. No answer. He tried again. Nothing.

He seemed somewhat surprised.

"Tell you what, I'll let you borrow it again when we land. You can try them then."

"Thanks." He handed the phone back.

The flight was three or four hours. I don't normally talk to people on planes, but Luke had a very easy going nature. He was friendly and talkative without being forced or overbearing. We talked for maybe the first half hour of the flight, then I begged off to do some work. He listened to music. We smiled at each other once or twice more as the flight attendants came around with drinks.

As we got closer to landing, I had to shut down my computer and we struck up conversation again. I genuinely liked him. He was interesting.

Without being asked, I handed him my phone just before we landed. As the plane headed for the terminal, he called again. The conversation didn't go well. Very quickly, his answers became flat. "Yes." "No." "Ok."

When the call ended, he sat there blankly staring at the seat in front of him.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

It took him a second to acknowledge me. His story was short and a bit distressing. His aunt had bought him his ticket. One way. He was coming to California to stay with a friend of his. But his friend had gone to jail a week earlier. No call, no letter, nothing. His friend's mother was not at all interested in having Luke come stay with her. The confidence and easy nature was disrupted, though only for a few moments.

"Luke, do you have any money?"

"Fifteen dollars."

For a fleeting second, I thought of the dollar bills he had offered to me for the call earlier.

"You come with me."

He tried to protest, but I don't think his heart was in it, and besides, I kept talking, not giving him a chance to interrupt.

"Look, I've rented a small apartment. Come stay with me for a day or two while you figure out what's next. You'll need a place to sleep, and I'd enjoy the company."

And it was settled just that easily. Before I knew it, we were pulling into the parking lot of a small complex that was actually not too far from the beach. The apartment had been rented through a broker, so I'd never actually seen it before. It was going to be my base of operations for at least a couple of months.

I had thought it was going to be a one-bedroom, but instead it was a large, furnished studio apartment. I looked around the place, thinking it might be a bit awkward living with no privacy, and for a moment, I regretted my compassion. But only for a moment.

"This place is perfect!" Luke said, obviously having a different vision of sharing living quarters. We dropped our stuff and went out for something to eat.

Over the next few days, we drifted easily enough into a routine. I was up and out early every morning, calling on existing and prospective clients. I have built a small but very lucrative business by testing computer and network security systems for small and mid-size companies. During the day, I would meet with their IT or executives. If all went well, we would sign a contract and I would go to the client's site at night and run a series of tests on their systems and find vulnerabilities.

While I was doing this, Luke was out in the area, responding to ads and scheduling interviews. But his lack of any meaningful contacts in the area made it a bit harder to open doors. Despite repeated setbacks, his cheerful and easy nature never left him.

That first week, we found a gym not too far from the house. Given my very irregular schedule, I liked to do whatever I could to try to stay in shape. I was proud of my body, which, frankly, is a little unusual in the technology world. Luke was remarkably fit, too. I would notice him sometimes around the apartment changing shirts. His upper body was lean and strong, not overly muscled, but very well toned.

In the evenings, we would run to the gym then work out for about an hour or so. When we were done, we would go for a swim. The first night at the gym, I pulled off my workout shorts to reveal my spandex swim trunks underneath. I had never thought of them as sexual or erotic; they were strictly functional black Speedo-style briefs. I liked how they felt when I swam, the effortless glide through the water. I noticed Luke noticing me. At the time, I didn't think much of it. I know that tight swim trunks aren't terribly popular and I thought that he was just surprised to see someone willing to wear them in public. I smiled at him, shrugged a little, and headed out to the pool.

That week also presented another problem...and solution. Even though I had only been in town a few days, I was busy and getting steadily busier. I was going to need help to keep up. Luke hadn't had any serious job offers, so that weekend I offered him a job as my assistant. He could handle logistics and administration and I would focus on sales and fulfilling the contract. His genuine nature would be an added bonus in tough client meetings. I would pay him cash, which he was desperately short on.

He eagerly accepted. I think he was as glad to be finally working as I was going to be having him helping me. He went out that night with a cash advance and bought a bunch of decent casual clothes for the job.

I made one rule that at the time seemed very benign. I told him that our relationship outside of work must remain one of equals. Not only did I not want to be his boss outside of work; I expected him to keep me honest and not allow me to play the boss role at home or in the gym.

The second week of client visits was just as productive as the first. As expected, Luke was incredible in meetings. He instinctively knew when to inject a bit of humor, when to stay quiet, when to pleasantly disagree, and when to stay focused on the task at hand. My clients reacted warmly to him, and inside, I was pleased not only with the quality of his work, but of our chance to spend more time together.

After another week of signing contracts, it was time for night duty. Luke and I discussed how this would work. I wouldn't be home until after sunrise most mornings. I planned on sleeping a few hours, make a client visit in the afternoon, a quick trip to the gym, then out for the night. I would need him to be quiet in the morning, but would appreciate him waking me around noon each day. He didn't really have anything to do when I was working nights except return a couple of phone calls and a bit of paperwork.

This change of schedule marked a change in our work and our relationship.

The first night, or rather, the first morning I came back to the apartment, the sun was just coming up. I was exhausted from having been up all day the previous day and then working through the night. I flopped into the lone easy chair, no energy to even undress and fall into bed. Luke was sleeping on the sofa, but woke up when I came in.

"Long night?"

"Mmm." I was too tired to even make words.

"How did it go?"

"Good." Well, I could make out single words.

"How do you feel?"

"I'm sore. Their chairs were not comfortable." He made it easy to talk to him.

He climbed out from under the sheet. For a tantalizing moment, I thought he might be naked, but he was wearing boxers that had ridden down on his hips in the night.

"Lean forward."

I was too tired to resist, or even want to.

He went around behind me, and then, with just the right amount of pressure, began to kneed my tired shoulders through my shirt. He did that for just a moment or two, just enough to tempt me with the offer of more.

"Take your shirt off." He said it matter-of-factly. There was nothing implied in his voice other than the desire of a groom to give a good rubdown to a tired horse who had run all night. I pulled my shirt off.

His hands worked their way over my tired skin, my tense muscles relaxing to his perfect touch. I lost track of time, my mind wandering in a haze, enjoying the physical contact.

"Climb into bed."

A brief moment of panic. Too tired to resist. But his intentions were still pure.

"You are tired. You need to sleep." Of course. My employee, my friend, was just looking out for my needs.

I pulled myself up out of the chair and mindlessly discarded my shirt and shoes. But before I could fall into the sleep I so desperately wanted, I needed to take a shower. Without thinking, I stumbled into the bathroom and stepped out of my clothes. I didn't even think of either my nudity or closing the door. My only interest was a couple of minutes in a hot shower and then sleep.

When I got out of the shower, I was just lucid enough to pull a towel around me. Luke was watching me casually from the couch. I tossed the towel onto the floor as I dropped into bed. I usually slept in a t-shirt and underwear, but today I couldn't muster the energy to pull some clean ones out of the dresser. My first night shift was always the hardest. My body adjusted well enough after a couple of days, but on this morning, I was indifferent to everything. I knew Luke was watching me, but I just didn't give a shit.

I yanked the comforter towards me and promptly fell asleep.

Sometime later, I became distantly aware of being rolled onto my belly. Gentle hands on my back. The delicately strong touch I had first experienced earlier that morning. I drifted gently out of sleep. My awareness of his touch was so transient that I was still more asleep than awake. The light in the room had changed. It was afternoon.

Luke was sitting next to me on the bed. His hands were warm and so perfect. I honestly do not know how long he massaged me before I remembered I was naked. The realization of my exposure and his closeness was followed instantly by the realization that I really didn't mind. In fact, a part of me was slightly excited by the uniqueness of the situation.

I slowly came out of my sleepy haze.

"My God, Luke. You are a heck of an alarm clock."

"I could tell what you needed." There was a soothing deepness in his voice.

His hands continued to roam up and down my back. Quite far down my back, actually. I didn't mind.

"What time is it?"

"A little after one."

I slowly rolled on my side, facing away from him. I realized with a little surprise that I was half-erect. He casually stopped what he was doing and rested his hand on my hip.

"We gotta get going." I had always prided myself on my work ethic. My desire to meet each day head-on had served me well. But today, I found myself strangely reluctant to get up. I refused to admit, even to myself, what might be going on. Luke had aroused a deep passion and curiosity in me, but I couldn't let myself give in.

I finally headed to the bathroom, careful not to show him my arousal. I pretended not to notice Luke was missing his boxers.

That one day had established our new routine. Luke would give me a quick massage when I got home. I would fall into bed naked and wake up with him next to me, also naked. We never spoke of it directly, but I encouraged him. I told him how much I enjoyed his backrubs. I told him how much I enjoyed him waking me up each day. I thanked him for his thoughtfulness. I told him I appreciated him letting me sleep just the right amount of time. Are these the things you say to someone when you don't like what they are doing?

In the long nights I would spend alone in a client's office, I would find my mind wandering to Luke. Then, after several minutes thinking of him, I would chastise myself. How could I be so fucking infatuated with this youth? I promised that I would exercise more control when I got home, that I would at least pull on a goddamn pair of underwear before going to bed. But I didn't.

The fact, unwilling as I was to face it, was that I loved Luke and I loved how he treated me. I loved how it felt when we were together. But I couldn't bring myself to overtly encourage him. He was my employee. He was more than ten years younger than me.

And besides all that, I wasn't gay. I had had some girlfriends. I liked having sex with them. I liked women's bodies. I justified my present lack of a girlfriend by saying I was too busy with my job. But if that was so, why didn't I fire Luke and hire a pretty girl to do his job? You see, it was all a tight, vicious circle.

I didn't want to admit my feelings, but I couldn't let them go either. To quote some movie I can't remember now, it was a goddamn bitch of an unacceptable situation.

After two weeks of working nights, it was time to get back to a daytime schedule for a while. My last few nights on the job, I added the misery of not only lusting after my employee, but lusting after the routine we had so quickly established.

In his usual perfect way, Luke solved that problem, too. After our first day of client visits, we went to the gym. When we got back, I got ready for bed and then lay face down with my head at the foot of the bed to watch TV for a bit before falling asleep. Luke usually watched TV while laying on the couch.

Tonight, he just grabbed his pillow and tossed it on the empty side of the bed. He sat down beside me, wearing only his boxers, and effortlessly slipped his hand up the back of my shirt, lightly rubbing my back. And with that, he became my bedmate.

In the morning, as the sun was coming up, Luke would curl up next to me. We would lay close together, welcoming the day.

I remember now the first time I felt his erection pressing against my backside a morning or two later. If I had pretended what we were doing was innocent up to this point, I could no longer deny the reality of it. Our closeness was as physically arousing for him as it was emotionally arousing for me. My own cock began to stiffen, responding to the base emotion. The fire was undeniable. But as much as I refused to act on my feelings, I still did nothing to stifle them either.

I snuggled every morning up against Luke, enjoying the closeness of his touch.

That weekend, we worked out harder than usual at the gym. I think both of us had been subconsciously competing against the other since we had started going to the gym. I could tell the extra effort was paying off. Luke's trim torso was sculpted beautifully. I found myself enjoying the touch and feel of him. My own body was responding well to the vigorous exercise. But I pushed it a little too hard that night. On our run home that night, my gait was strained.

I know this will sound contrived, that somehow I manufactured the pain to facilitate what came next. As I sit here some months later, thinking through that glorious, emotionally painful time, I try to be honest with myself. Did I try to force what happened next? I really don't think I did. I really was in pain that night. I really thought I could contain what was happening between us. I thought that by not speaking of it directly that we didn't have to admit the final truth of our relationship. I thought that somehow I could have my perfect relationship and still maintain my image of myself to myself.

It was all naïve horseshit.

Luke noticed my strain on the run home.

"Are you ok?"

"Yes." I lied.

He looked at me, knowing I was lying. "We'll see about that in a minute."

In my usual emotionally passive way, I tried to ignore the implications of his comment.

When we got to the apartment, he quickly guided me to the couch.

"Where does it hurt?" He stared directly in my eyes, stopping the lie before I could even form it.

"I think I pulled something in my thigh. It's not bad." The stare again. "Really." I indicated my left thigh.

He kneeled between my legs. I think even then I sensed this night would be different. I didn't know if I wanted anything to happen, but I know I was too weak to stop it. And too weak to ask for it.

He began kneading my thighs. "Tell me where it hurts. Tell me how this feels."

My inner thigh hurt a little. I did think I had pulled or strained something, but I also knew it wasn't bad. It would be stiff for a day or two, then fine. But I liked Luke's hands on me. So I told him where it hurt, and I encouraged him with small moans.

"This would be easier if you took your shorts off." He said it very directly. His voice implied that his only concern was for my well-being, but I knew him well enough by now to know that there was another motive.

My workout shorts were long, going nearly to my knees. I was wearing my spandex trunks under them as usual. I reached up and started to slide my hands under my outer waistband. He stopped me and hooked his fingers under it himself. I hitched my butt up in the air and he pulled my trunks down, casting them aside.

I was sharply aware of the bulge in my swim suit being so close to his face. He was, too. His eyes were locked on my legs and crotch as he continued to work the muscles in my thigh. His hands worked their way up between my legs, pushing them wide apart. I was exposed and covered at the same time. It was the same incredible contradiction that was imbedded in every part of our relationship.

His hands reached the edge of my suit. His fingers danced along the edge of the fabric, teasing, implying. I could have told him to stop at any time, but I didn't want him to and I lacked the will.

Finally, his fingers crossed the last psychological barrier, pressing against the swelling in my suit that was now completely obvious. He explored the edges first, not directly rubbing my swollen cock. One hand continued to pay token attention to the pain in my leg that was now all but forgotten. The other hand touched me through the suit, enjoying the suggestions of what was to come.

The motion of his hands changed. He brought them together and slid them up my torso under my shirt, taking it off in one easy push. He ran his hands back down my quivering belly and before I knew what he was doing, he had his hands under the elastic of the spandex and was pulling my suit down.