The moans suddenly choke off to rising gasps as he feels the rhythm-bereft flutter of muscles, then no breath at all as his entire frame arrests at once. Nothing in the full force of it is expected, not how much harder it hit him than any dalliance in memory, not the rush of humiliation at his own, uncontrolled issue, or how his hand flattens on the Bhaalist's stomach -- for balance or some unconscious reach toward connection, he cannot say.

Enough of him comes back in the seconds after that small death that he can stop himself from collapsing, as he gasps.