Watching Lucio perform at his request was more than enough to fuel Ansel's final thrust. As Lucio leaned into him and came across his tight stomach, Ansel exploded inside of his partner for the second time that night. Feeling Lucio's ass squeeze him as the young man ejaculated was a pleasure that Ansel treasured, stretching out every second of his orgasm as long as he could, extending every moan and savoring every contraction of his pubic muscles. When they had both finished, Lucio's body seemed to go slightly limp, he whimpered, and Ansel released the young man's neck and held him close. He did not care that their bodies were once again covered in a filthy mix of sweat and semen. Somehow, it felt like this time was even more intense, more passionate than their first time, and the only thought that swirled through his mind was when they'd be able to share this time together again.<br/><br/>If encouraged, Ansel could probably summon the energy for one more sensual embrace, but he would be lying if he said that he wasn't rather tired at this point. The energy expended during their copulating was more than Ansel was used to. Although he would never admit it, Ansel disliked the fact that as he approached his fortieth birthday, the energy he had as a horny twenty-year-old was decreasing. Ansel took pride in the care that he put into his body, and while he was fitter than most men his age, there was only so much he could do to fight time.<br/><br/>"That was fantastic," Ansel purred, pressing his lips to Lucio's brow as he spoke. "You're fantastic, Lucio." Another kiss. Ansel wrapped his arms around Lucio's narrow waist and continued to hold him. "You know, instead of returning to our everyday lives, maybe we should just stay here. This suite can be our apartment where we'll spend our days indulging ourselves on oysters and ice cream and each other. Just food, drink and sex. Wouldn't that be lovely?"<br/><br/>Ansel was, of course, only half-joking. The idea of spending his life entertaining himself with a beautiful creature such as Lucio was an attractive one, but he realized the ridiculousness of the concept. One couldn't just escape life and waste the days sticking his penis into the prettiest hole he could find. And truthfully, many would envy Ansel's idyllic life; he had a gorgeous girlfriend, a well-paying and respectable career, the freedom and power to do whatever (and whomever) he pleased.<br/><br/>And yet . . . he felt something when he looked into Lucio's eyes, or held him, or made love to him. He couldn't place his finger on it. Maybe he was just imagining it.