The Moment of Our Dying

The moment of my dying sprinkled over you in first droplets of lust, clear and pure.  
You smiled as they fell warm against your face, imagining a thousand living cells seeking you.
 
A few seconds later, you smiled at the anguish in my eyes as second, third, and fourth creamy white jets cleared the air between us and came to rest on your tongue and open lips.  
 
My voice rattled, “Oh God,” when your soupy lips closed around me to hold my hardened cock. Still kneeling before me, your clear blue eyes looked up into mine with a question.  
 
I thought I heard them whisper, "Does a part of us die in moments like this?" As I scanned your young, now unfamiliar face I answered, “Yes, I think so.”