Under the Gaydar

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck... I'm gonna cum, oh fuuuuck." Tom pulled his cock out of my throat and mouth and with a few strokes of his hand started firing rifle shots of hot cum all over my face and shoulders, some even landing on my back. This visual seemed to push Steve over the edge and he increased the speed of his stroking on my cock and bent low over my back as he pounded into me. I could feel his cock swelling and his hot breath panting out onto the back of my neck. I was so close. I bent my head down to look back at his strong hand working my cock, just as I felt him erupting into the condom in my ass. I felt my whole being rushing to concentrate in my pelvis and a rope of my own cum hit my face just before my whole body whiplashed in orgasm. My vision filled with gold, and that's the last thing I remember.

"Jack? Jack? Come on, man, wake up. You OK? Jack?"

I woke up on my back on the couch. Looking up at the two hot sweaty naked men, and the strange room, it took me a second to figure out where I was and what was going on. Then I remembered it all, and smiled and stretched. Steve and Tom were both kneeling on the floor beside me and Steve had been gently shaking me. They both wore worried expressions until they saw me smile.

"Are you OK?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just passed out I guess. It happens sometimes when I'm over-stimulated."

"Jesus! You scared the shit out of us, man. I never saw anybody do that before!"

"No? Well, it happens. The French even have a term for it – they call it 'petit mort' – 'little death'. It just means you guys just showed me a really, really good time!"

"Fuck! 'Little death' all right. I thought you were dead, man. But we could see you breathing, so we didn't call an ambulance yet."

"Good, 'cause I really am fine," I said as I sat up. I had runny cum dripping down my neck and chest – Tom's – so I knew I couldn't have been out long at all, otherwise it would be drying. I'm usually only out for a couple of minutes at the most. I looked behind and saw a big mess on the floor. It seems I had fallen down on top of their old seventies-style coffee table, and let's just say it hadn't survived the crash. It was on the floor, with broken legs splaying out from the four corners. It was smeared with cum – mine, I guess – and the empty beer bottles and the ashtray and other stuff that had been on it were strewn across the floor.

"Oh, geez, guys – I'm sorry about the coffee table. I'll pay for it – "

"Oh, no way, man," said Tom, "I hated that coffee table anyway. This will give us an excuse to get a new one. We'll get a nice strong, padded one for when you come over."

He looked me in the eye, and gave his eyebrows a flirty bounce. I looked at Steve and he grinned.

I leaned back into the couch and looked at the two men kneeling at my feet. I sighed, then threw my head back and laughed.