Two girls. The dick knows the difference.

I fucked two different girls with two different dicks. Really. It happened. The same club. The same couch. The same price. Two girls. Both pretty. Both slim. One brunette. One blonde. And me. The brunette could have been a model. She's tall and beautiful. Yet the burdens of her short life seem to show on her face. Though the eyes, the nose, the mouth and the cheekbones seemed to have been assembled for perfection, bad families, worse boyfriends and maybe a few chemicals have dulled her shine. But only a little. She's lithe and lovely. Long legs. Just enough butt and breast. She was easy to select for a dance. The blonde was shorter and skinnier. Still beautiful. Just not as polished. Maybe a little fresher. Not much though. There is some darkness beneath the long lashes and the colored eyes. Her face is soft and pretty. Her breasts fit exquisitely on her small frame. Her rear sits high and firm on shapely, thin legs. Another easy choice. The real difference between the two wasn't hair color or height, however, as the dicks would soon point out. It wasn't make-up or tattoos. Their skin was fine. It wasn't teeth or breath. I never saw their feet. It wasn't me. I arrived much the same both days. My plan was the same as it is every day. I'd drink beer and check out the chicks - only not in that order. Should one connect with my inner desire, I'd check her bona fides and then move to the couch. There I'd surely get head if not the full trim too. I set the price. Both girls were up for it. I was going to get laid. And I did. The brunette model developed amensia right away in the back. Started talking about another price. I set her straight immediately and unequivocally. She rallied by licking my ear, then licking my shaft. When it came time for the next level in our relationship, she wanted to know if I wanted to reconsider. Maybe just finish like this? I indicated my disapointment. Again she rallied. Wanted to show me her beautiful white backside. Got on all fours. I got behind. Done. A couple of days later, I was back in the back on the couch with the blonde. No talk of money. None at all. We'd been here before. Just right to the zipper. Just right to the mouth. And you know what I noticed? The dick in her mouth didn't look hardly at like the one in the brunette's mouth. It was longer. And fatter. It was definitely harder. Happier. Definitely happier when she climbed on for the finish. Done. Same club. Same couch. Same me. Different girl. And the dick looked different. Better. Because it was better. The atmosphere had improved. It had gone from cloudy to clear - clear and hot. Blonde didn't make this a transaction (though of course it was). Blonde made this about the dick. And the dick stood tall in response. Here's the funny part. We PLs in this hobby often talk about listening to the little head below the belt instead of the big head above the shoulders. These two different dicks I used on these two different girls tell me something else. And that is, the dick knows the difference.