That quickened pace suits Ned just fine; he loses himself in the rhythm of it, his sense of time and his surroundings becoming blurred and uneven. He should probably be focusing on not making enough noise to startle the neighbors, should be trying to hold out as long as he can for Ginsberg's sake. But it's all beyond him, now.

The orgasm springs upon him more suddenly than he'd expected it would, doesn't give him time to warn Ginsberg. One moment he's in control and the next he is breaking apart, clinging to Ginsberg, shaking under the force of it. There's something half-startled in the cry he hears spilling out of his own mouth.