Lucio settled in comfortably as he tuned in to his lovers answer to his incredibly invasive question. He reveled in the way Ansel’s hand danced over his lithe body and he sighed softly as in the end the question was thrown back at him. “Even now Emerson seems like the type one could easily fall for, an exceedingly charming individual, though he doesn’t seem like the stable relationship type. Of course I’m solely speaking off of first impressions, but generally speaking I’m fairly good at judging character based off of just a few minutes of interaction.” It was clear enough that he was stalling from telling his own story, he really didn’t wish to share it but he felt he owed Ansel that much.<br/><br/>“My first was . . . Well, he was a family friend,” he admittedly question as he dropped his gaze away from Ansel’s and slowly slid his hands up Ansel’s torso, bringing one hand to rest over his heart and fixing his gaze down onto it. “I was young, quite young. It was at my twelfth birthday party, actually; my family never did much to celebrate birthday’s but we’d have small potluck dinners with family and friends, and that much didn’t change even after my father came into wealth. We had the lot of them over, and this man was among them: Luther was his name. He was probably around your age at the time, forty or so, though obviously I was much younger at that stage, but he was such a close family friend that we all trusted him dearly. A mistake, really.<br/><br/>“He had drunken himself into a stupor at that particular get together so my mum offered him a space in the spare bed, which happened to be set in my bedroom at the time. He slept for a few hours, but I remember he snored so bloody loud I couldn’t sleep a wink I just stared at him and waited for morning though it felt like it would never come. It was around three AM that he awoke quite suddenly and sat up, he looked confused for a spell but then he stood and walked over to my little twin bed on the other side of the room. I suppose he’d been waiting, plotting, planning to find just the right moment where he could strike and take advantage of me. I was confused, didn’t quite understand what was going on, what he wished to do. I knew what sex was, of course, but only vaguely … And I didn’t think it was supposed to hurt quite that horrifically.” Lucio shuddered when he mentioned the pain, shaking his head slowly as he slowly rolled onto his back and gazed up quietly at the dimming sky for a few moments before he continued.<br/><br/>“He fucked me raw, I remember it so clearly. He tore me open without an ounce of regret and the pain was horrific. The following day I tried to tell my father, tried to explain to him what that man, no, that monster had done to me but he refused to believe me, told me he’d never be friends with a filthy<i>faggot</i>.” Lucio spit the slur out as though it tasted bitter in his mouth and he glanced over at. “He was my first sexual partner, if you could even call him a partner . . . Our relations carried on for a year or so before he had a heart attack and died. I mourned his death so, though it might seem odd over the course of the year I grew rather fond of him, not that I regret his untimely parting now that I understand what a piece of filth he was.”<br/><br/>Lucio finished and slowly rolled onto his side to gaze up at Ansel again, a faint smile forming on his lips. “Two years of abstinence later I fucked my first teacher, and the rest is history,” he concluded to put a slightly more upbeat note on the tail end of his story. “I’m sorry that story was a bit of a downer, but I felt I should be honest,” he murmured apologetically as he slid his arms around Ansel’s neck gently whilst he settled in close to him again. “Ask me something now, perhaps something a little bit lighter,” he requested softly, leaning in to press a brief kiss to Ansel’s lips after he did as though he needed to wash the taste of the words he’d spoken from his mouth.