A few weeks after the first time I sucked a guy’s dick, I knew I wanted more. That first time had been exciting and nerve‑wracking, but it felt like only a preview. I hadn’t blown him for long. He wasn’t as big as the guys I watched in porn. He didn’t cum on me or in my mouth. And he wasn’t black.
From the first time I saw thick, heavy BBCs in porn, I knew exactly what I wanted. I wanted to kneel and serve. I wanted to feel small and eager beneath someone bigger than me. I wanted to be submissive, to let a darker, heavier cock take control while I followed instructions. I wanted to be a snowbunny, as much as I could be, and be ordered around and talked to in a way that made my stomach flip. Every fantasy I had came back to that feeling of giving myself over completely. I craved it.
Living with my brother made everything harder. I was openly straight with no cracks in the image, and I couldn’t bring guys over. The secrecy only made the urge stronger. By the time I downloaded Grindr, I already knew what I was looking for.
There were plenty of profiles nearby in my apartment complex. One stood out immediately. Black. Tall. Fit. I messaged him without overthinking it.
“Hey, I want to give head. I want to be submissive, a snowbunny for a BBC. Would that be okay?”
He replied quickly, but the hesitation came through. “Uh… okay. I’ve never really done that exactly, but I guess.”
I reassured him. “You don’t need to know anything. I just want to kneel and do exactly what you like.”
We exchanged photos and talked through expectations. He admitted he was nervous and told me we’d have to be quiet because his roommate was home. He said he was discreet. He also told me this was only the third time he’d done anything with a guy. Knowing that made my chest tighten in a good way. We were both new to this, just in different ways. We agreed I’d come over, he’d open the door, and quietly lead me to his room.
When I arrived, he opened the door with a hesitant smile. He fidgeted a little, his thumbs brushing the waistband of his pants, and stepped aside to let me in. He moved carefully as he led me down the hallway, clearly aware of every sound. My heart was pounding by the time we reached his room. The second the door closed, we ended up on the bed together, the mattress dipping with a soft thud. The bed creaked louder than either of us expected. We froze, listening. I was sure his roommate had heard us. Nothing happened.
I smiled nervously and reached for the waistband of his sweatpants. My hands were clumsy, shaking slightly as I hooked my fingers into the soft, worn cotton. I could feel the warmth of his body radiating through the fabric as I tugged them down over his hips. The elastic band snagged for a second on the hard length beneath, and I had to pull again, harder this time, to free him. The scent of clean laundry and his own warm, musky skin filled the air as his sweatpants pooled around his ankles. He flinched when I touched him, then relaxed just enough to let me continue. “Yeah… that’s okay,” he murmured.
When I pulled him free from his boxers, I knew immediately this was what I’d been hoping for. He was already big, thic,k and heavy in my palm, his cock a deep, dark brown that contrasted starkly with my lighter skin.
The heat radiating from him was intense, and I could feel the frantic, shallow pulse of his heartbeat through the solid weight of his shaft. I wrapped my hand around him, my fingers barely meeting, and stroked slowly, feeling the velvety texture of his skin over the rigid steel beneath. A clear bead of pre-cum welled up at the tip, and I instinctively used my thumb to spread it over his slick head.
He looked awkward, unsure where to put his hands, but he didn’t stop me. I leaned in, parting my lips, and took the head of his cock into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around the ridge, tasting the salty, clean flavor of him. A low hiss escaped his lips. I worked carefully, using my mouth, my hand, and my tongue together, letting saliva coat him until my lips glided over his shaft with wet, soft sounds. I could feel him react to every movement, his body giving me feedback even when he wasn’t sure what to say.
“That feels nice,” he whispered.
I went a little further, trying to take him deeper. My lips stretched around his impressive girth, and I immediately struggled. He was too big. I choked softly, pulling back with a gasp, my eyes watering. A wave of embarrassment hit me, but he just watched, his breathing a little faster.
I tried again, this time wrapping both hands around his shaft to control the depth. My strokes were firm, twisting slightly as I took the head back into my mouth. The extra control helped. I could focus on just the tip, using my tongue to explore the sensitive slit while my hands worked the rest of his length.
The room was dim, lit mostly by the blue glow of the TV, and the mix of his musky scent, the taste of his skin, and the quiet, slick sounds of my mouth on his cock made my own body respond. My own dick was straining in my jeans, aching with a need I couldn’t satisfy yet.
My hands trembled a little as I tried to keep a rhythm. His hands slid into my hair, tentative at first, then steadier. He guided my head gently, encouraging me to take more. I felt him push down, just a little, testing my limits. I moaned and relaxed my throat, letting him slide deeper until his head nudged the back of my throat. Each twitch and breathy sound told me I was doing something right.
“Keep going,” he murmured. “You’re doing good.”
Hearing that settled my nerves. I pulled back when I needed air, a long, thick string of spit connecting my lips to his cock before it broke and dripped onto his shaft. I went back in, licking and sealing my lips again each time. The awkwardness was fading, replaced by a hungry focus. I was still learning, still nervous, but I wanted this badly. It already felt better than the first time.
Eventually he stood up, and I slid off the bed and onto my knees without thinking. It felt instinctive, right. I used my hands and mouth together, looking up at him to read his reactions. His hands rested on my shoulders, light but grounding.
“Don’t stop,” he said quietly.
A knock at the door made my heart jump, but I didn’t stop. His roommate asked if he was okay. He answered, voice unsteady, making up an excuse about the TV. One hand moved from my shoulder to the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair while I kept going, focused on the task, on worshiping his cock with my mouth.
I reached for my phone, my fingers fumbling with the slick screen as I aimed it at us. “Can you… can you record this?” I asked, my voice muffled. He hesitated, then nodded. I hit record and handed him the phone. With the camera on, something shifted in him. He relaxed more. His grip in my hair tightened, no longer hesitant. He murmured encouragements under his breath, his voice a low, confident rumble. “Yeah, just like that. Look at me.” I tilted my head back, my eyes finding the phone’s lens as I kept working, my expression a mix of eagerness and submission.
Then, his grip changed completely. It was no longer just guiding; it was firm, possessive. He held my head in place and started to move his hips. He wasn’t pushing me down, but thrusting into my mouth, slowly at first, then with more confidence. I relaxed my throat, letting him set the pace. Saliva was flooding my mouth, dripping from my lips in thick, heavy strings that coated his shaft and his balls, making everything slick and messy. The wet, rhythmic sounds of his cock fucking my mouth grew louder, filling the quiet room, punctuated by his sharp breaths and my own muffled moans. He was watching me, watching his dick disappear between my lips, and the look on his face was pure, unguarded need. All the awkwardness was gone, replaced by a raw, shared intensity. This was it. This was the submission I craved.
He came suddenly, without warning. His whole body went rigid, and his cock throbbed hard against my tongue. The first hot, thick jet of his cum hit the roof of my mouth, followed by another, and another. It was a lot, and it pulsed out of him in powerful spurts, coating my tongue and filling my mouth. I moaned around him, swallowing as much as I could, but some of it escaped, mixing with the saliva and dripping down my chin. I stayed there afterward, teasing his overly sensitive head with my tongue, watching his body twitch with aftershocks. I looked at the camera and asked if he liked it, making sure to call him daddy. He nodded and whispered yes. I opened my mouth for the camera to show him the milky mess on my tongue before swallowing again.
I cleaned up and he got dressed quietly. The air felt heavy and charged. I awkwardly said goodbye and thank you and slipped out while his roommate was still nearby, heart racing until I made it back to my apartment.
Later, lying in bed, I replayed everything in my head. His nervousness. My own. The way he sounded when he finally relaxed. I watched the video he’d recorded and saw myself the way he had and jerked myself off to a video of me sucking cock. I looked eager and messy. Not a pro, but learning.
The first time had been good. The second time was amazing.
