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Dupree, Most Unlikely by John Likeness (

Hey there, my name is John Matthews and this is a tale about how an unexpected sexual encounter grew into one of the best relationships I ever had. It all started during my stint in the US Army. I was 22y/o 6' 3" and a well muscled 225 lbs. I had a shock of red hair in a high-n-tight, crystal blue eyes and a clear ruddy complexion; I had been told quite often that I had really nice ass, and I was personally rather proud of my 7.5" circumcised dick and I'd figured out I was gay by my 13th birthday and I'm very versatile.

I was in my barracks room minding my own business when there was a knock at the door. It was probably for Eddie, my rack mate, he had been assigned to school, and so he was gone and would be for 13 weeks. Anyway, it was early Saturday morning @7; I was up out of reflex and reading, wearing a fleece hoodie with a snug "wife beater" underneath, and lounge pants commando style. I got up and answered the door, it was Dupree; of all the people I'd met and served with, Alex Dupree was the one I'd least like to spend any time with--he was a skinny, cocky, coffee and cream skinned black kid from Baltimore, with an irritating attitude and a rude manner, and he seemed to have some animosity toward me. So I was a little stunned when he stood at my door.

"Yo John, is Eddie `roun' man?" he asked with a slight sneer in his voice.

"Sorry bud, he's away at some tactical school. He is gone for like two-three months." I answered with chilly politeness.

"Damn man. Can I come in an' chill wi' chu for a minute; Deacon got a girl in da house." All his attitude and rudeness softened a bit as he asked this.

"It's coo' man," I said, knowing he really didn't have any place else to go. I stepped back and opened the door wide, "C'mon in."

He strode in behind me. I returned to my chair at the desk, and he, after a nod from me, sprawled across my bunk. He was in "civvies" of course; and I looked him over as I offered him something to drink--"Soda, Orange Juice, beer?"--he considered for a second and said "beer". He was wearing an Orioles baseball cap over baby fine light brown hair in a barely regulation haircut; when he wasn't smirking or sneering, his face was actually cute, smooth and proportionate with hazel eyes, a narrow nose and a perpetual pout that made him look like a little boy. He was about 6' tall and slender, maybe 120 lbs. his narrow body all but swallowed up in his oversize "Testament" T-shirt and a huge hooded sideline coat, "Ravens" of course, and blue-black denims with a wide belt and huge silver belt buckle and black "Doc Martin's" on his feet. (If I didn't know him I'd say he looked hot, really hot, but attitude cancels appearance). He took the beer from me and, for the first time, I noticed his hands, long and smooth, broad at the knuckles with long, nearly perfect fingers--I got a thing for hands--and proportionate thumbs. He held the beer, unopened, for a second then asked,

"Whachu lisnen' to?" He asked with genuine curiosity rather than contempt.

"That's John Lee Hooker now, it's a Chess blues compilation--all the old timey Chicago Blues singers that recorded for Chess back in the day are on it."

"Damn dude, my gramma would love dis," then he added, "Kinda makes me think of home." And, for an instant he got a faraway look in his eye.

We sat listening for a couple of songs, and then I debated with myself and said "fuck it" and finally asked,

"Dupe, why are you here?"

"Whachu mean?"

"I mean, Dude, you've made it clear you don't like me, now you're hangin' with me. Wassup? I know I'm not the only one up--" I trailed off.

At first, a hard look crossed his face, then he looked at the beer in his hand as if just noticing he held it, opened it, took a swig, then looked up at the ceiling pensively--that cute little pout became very prominent--then he said.

"Honestly J, it's not that I don't like you, it's that I don't know you," he said sincerely. He hesitated then added, "You a little scary to me."

I gave him a quizzical look, "I scare you? How?"

He remained silent, sipping his beer, and then he said carefully, "Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did," I dead-panned. He frowned sourly. I smirked and said,

"Sure, go ahead."

He took another sip of his beer and gave me that pensive, pouty look, then a "fuck it" look came across his face and he asked,

"You gay?"

Well, there it was. It amounted to either "I'm gonna rat you out," or "I'm gonna blackmail you, and may or may not rat you out anyway." I frowned, I wasn't about to make it easy for this asshole.

"Well . . . What answer are you expecting?" I asked, incisively.


"When you ask a question, `especially one like that, there's an answer you want or expect to get. In this case I got two choices "yes" or "no," so what answer do you want?"

He gaped at me, but didn't answer.

"No answer? Okay then, here's what I think; if you expected "no" you wouldn't have asked the question in the first place--so, if I answer `no' you'll either accept it, which I doubt, or you'll decide I'm lying. If you decide I'm lying, you'll do what you were gonna if I answered `yes'. But you really don't expect me to answer yes either. You expect me not to answer. Doesn't matter anyway `cause you're gonna say what you want to any way--so why waste my breath." I lapsed into silence.

"You are so full of shit," he snapped, "I asked an honest question, I want an honest answer. In all your babble though you were right, I do want you to answer a certain way."

"Which is?"

He hesitated briefly and then blurted, "Yes!"

"So you can fuck with me and or blackmail me and . . ." I started to rant.

"No, No, NO!" he roared over me.

"Then why?!" I snarled savagely.

"You so smart--Figger it out MothaFucker!" he snarled right back, "Got damn, you can be so fuckin' stupid! Fuck! You think I need your permission to talk shit about you? Shit, if I was gonna do that, I'd a done it already. Fuck, I knew you was gay the first week you was here! I seen how you look at Eddie, and Nichols, and some time at St. Saens."

He paused for breath. I opened my mouth to say something (I don't know what exactly) but he held up his hand and then continued in a calm even voice,

"I see the way you look at them," I started to protest, but he stopped me again and said, "don't worry you ain't obvious or nothin'; if I didn't know what I was lookin' at I'd have missed it, but now you tryin' to be so smart an so . . . difficult." He almost sneered that, but pulled himself back and paused.

I jumped in at this point, "How'd you know what to look for?" I asked without rancor.

He looked at me like I'd just asked the stupidest question ever,

"How you think?" he said in a descending tri-tone.

I gaped at him.

"Das right, Colombo, I am too." He said with mild sarcasm.

"Come off it! You think all you got to do is babble some shit like that and 1. I'll believe you and 2. I'll be so happy that I'll compromise myself. Bull-fuckin'-shit. Fuck off man."

We had both gotten up and stalked around the room during our "discussion", we now stood face to face; I was glaring at him, and he had that pouty look again with his head cocked to the side. Now I was ready for him to do anything, from taking a swing at me to trying to kiss me, anything except, drop to his knees, yank the front of my pants down, take my dick in his mouth and start sucking. I froze like a deer in the headlights. He held my dick with his left hand and fished out his phone with his right, clicked some thing and then I heard the shutter sound--I started to shove him away when he flipped the phone around so I could see the picture--it was him with my dick in his mouth, but that was all of me you could see. I didn't know what to do or what to say, and he was giving me a great blow job in the meantime.

I gave my head a shake, reached down and pulled him to his feet in front of me. Our eyes met and I murmured "O man" and we kissed, 3 rapid smacks and we went for each other's neck. My hands pushed the huge jacket off his shoulders and reached up under his t-shirt, caressing his smooth abs and back. We continued necking while he unzipped my jacket; he then rubbed his hands over my abs and pecs. He slid his mouth down to my left nipple, tonguing and then nipping it with his teeth; I twitched like I'd been shocked, grabbed his head and pushed his mouth harder onto my nipple. He took the hint and took a bigger, harder bite; I groaned in ecstasy.

I was about to start gurgling like Homer Simpson with a box of donuts, when a knock on the door made both of us jump a foot in the air. We both almost laughed out loud, as both of us put our finger to our lips in the "Shhh!" gesture simultaneously. Another knock and a familiar voice called,

"Yo Matthews, hit the deck!"

"What!" I called with a sleepy tone to my voice.

"Yo man, get up it's me, Corporal Riggs."

Riggs was a great big dark skinned black guy who had been a walk on lineman for NC State football. He was always beyond super macho; always bragging about his prowess "wi' da' bitches." He was never quite clear about why he'd dropped out college and joined the Army--I was of the private opinion that it was because he liked white guys to suck his dick, and, when he was "drunk" (half a beer), liked them to fuck him. He was also Dupree's immediate supervisor.

"Gimme a sec, I'll be right there." I yawned; then I whispered to Dupree, "get outta sight and watch what happens."

The room was a cruciform layout, with three bays as sleeping areas and the fourth with the bathroom and entry way. The bay straight across from mine was unoccupied; Dupree ducked into the wall locker, with his shirt and jacket and was able to see my bay clearly through the gap at the hinge. I made a show of "getting up" noisily to cover his movements; after about a minute, I opened the door.

Waiting for me was 6' 6", 318 lbs. of solid carved ebony wrapped snugly in camouflage. His chest, shoulders, arms and thighs were so big that he had to have his cammies specially made; his face was handsome in a generic way--it was almost like it had been molded from a mannequin--nothing distinctive about it though; his eyes were a flat brown. There was nothing unpleasant about him, but physically he was not my type; he was just too bulky and his narcissistic personality was a turn off, but he was one hell of a hunk o' man. We had hooked up while I was still in-processing, and had continued `playing' after I'd been assigned. Mostly, it was me blowing him, but every once in awhile, he'd get drunk--usually when his roomie was gone--and other "things" would happen.

"I got CQ today," he rumbled as he stepped through the door, "Can you help me out with somethin' t' read?" and as the door clicked shut he added, "an' help me out with somethin' else?" as he grabbed his crotch and smiled.

"Yeah, I think I can help you out." I said softly as I led him to my section of the room. I sat on my desk chair; he was positioned so he could sit back on the bed, he had unbuttoned his BDU top as we stepped over to the bed and he slipped it off as he stood in front of me. I made sure we were angled so Dupree had an unobstructed view. I looked up at Riggs; he started unbuckling his belt and opening his pants,

"I only got a few minutes," he said, "I can't leave Tellez alone too long."

Without a word I yanked down his pants and boxers; on most other men Riggs' package would have looked respectable, if not downright impressive, but because he was so big, 7" looked almost adolescent on him--truth to tell though, anything shy of a full-fledged donkey dick would look inadequate--he was semi-hard and ready to go. I took possession of his meat stick with my right hand and gave the head a lick, then swallowed the whole thing and slurped two or three times up and down as it firmed up. As it got hard I sucked hard and swirled and rubbed my tongue around the head as I jacked his shaft in time,

"Ah, ah, ah, Damn, you like that dick, huh?" he rasped.

"Uh huh," I hummed.

"You want that nut hmm . . . you want me to shoot in your mouth? O yeah, work dat dick. Mmm mmm mmm."

I did as he said, I worked that dick. I took a grip on his ass and bore down and sucked and bobbed on him like a woodpecker, taking most of the length; then I took him deep in my throat and held with my nose against his clean shaven pubes. I did that twice more each time eliciting an "O hell yeah." Then I pulled back and worked the head as intensely as I could; he growled and arched his back and,

"Arrrggh, fuck, shit . . . Ooh yeah!" and his juice pumped into my mouth.

I milked the last of his nut out on my tongue and gave the head a few more licks then he pulled away, stepped back and pulled up his pants and grabbed up his BDU top and put it on and started buttoning it up. He was halfway to the door when he turned towards me and said,

"I gotta get back. . . Thanks, maybe I'll check you later." And with that he was out the door. I followed and locked the door after him.

I turned and there was Dupree with a mile wide grin on his face,

"Got Damn! That big mutha fucker . . . Damn, shit . . . When ju, uh . . .?"

"Two days after I got here in the PX latrine," I told him.

"He fuck you?"

"No, he don't like that, he likes to be fucked."

"You bull shiten."

I shook my head and smirked, as I stepped toward the bathroom.

"You fucked him? Dayum . . . You fuhreal huh?"

I nodded. He looked at me seriously then said again, "Damn . . . That's one I didn't see either way . . . Man, the way he go on about dis bitch an' dat bitch. Ha."

He followed me to the bathroom door--I rinsed my mouth and gargled quick with mouth wash--he smirked at that--we stepped back to my bed and I grabbed a beer myself and took a slug as I sat back in my chair. Dupree sat down on the bed opposite me; we sipped our beers and regarded each other silently, then he got a crooked grin on his face and said,

"That was one hot blowjob man; fastest I eva' seen anybody nut. Dayum."

"You, uh, wanna see if I can do it again?" I asked archly, and then added, mischievously, "I don't think you could do me like that, so . . ."

"Bullshit, I could make you bust in like five minutes," he said saucily.

"Oh yeah?" I said in mock challenge.

"Yeah," he responded, trying to force his voice deeper.

"Prove It."

"Okay but, you gotta prove that that wudn't no fluke with Riggs too," he piped in.

"So this is a challenge, huh?" I said, as I leaned forward and grabbed his belt and pulled him to his feet. I lifted the hem of his tee and kissed his smooth taught belly; he giggled as I tongued his shallow innie navel, then pulled me to my feet, and pressed full length against me and slipped his hands into my hoodie and gently rubbed my back as he kissed me deeply drawing my tongue into his mouth.

My hands slid up under his shirt, and as we broke our kiss, I lifted it off along with his hat. I paused to admire his upper body; he was as smooth as fine silk, his collar bones stood out perfectly, his belly and chest showed just a hint definition, his cherry wood nipples contrasted perfectly with his light honey skin that I'd heard called "high yella". I looked back at his face, so smooth, and he was doing the pout thing again. I couldn't resist, I kissed him again and drew that bottom lip between my teeth as he drew back.

We stepped apart pulled our clothes off. I beheld a perfect twink; smooth and slender, 28" waist, flawless skin, size 14 feet, no superfluous body fat, and a perfect round ass that jutted just enough to pronounce the perfect curve; his abs hinted at an eight pack in outline and, low on the right just above the crease of his hip, was a tattoo of a green dragon wrapped around a red dragon. His clipped dick was long and slim, the color of ivory patina, his pubes were shaved and his sac and crotch were completely hairless, accentuating his adolescent appearance. I was transfixed--he was so cute!--he held his arms out widely, did a little pirouette, cocked his head to one side and gave a shy little grin. I melted, and Dupree knew it,

"You are so hot," I said.

"You are somethin' else too; damn you' a sexy muthafucka," he whispered.

"I wanna eat you up," I responded.

"Me too," he said.

"Me first," I said.

"No you don't," he shot back and pounced on me.

He wrapped his arms around my neck and his legs around my hips; my right arm held his butt and my left supported his back. Our mouths came together; our tongues twined around each other like the dragons in his tattoo. I turned and took a step backwards and sat on the bed; without breaking our lip lock, he pushed me onto my back. He wiggled slightly and trapped my bone hard dick in his crotch; he broke our kiss leaned back a bit and looked at me solemnly and said,

"I wanted to get witchu since the day you got here. You way hot--I was afraid I'd act da' fool and, well . . . you know."

"That why you been a total prick to me?" I countered.

"It was that or risk rapin' you right there in the middle of the quad."

"That coulda been fun," I chuckled as I looked him over; he was fully hard now and looked to have a solid stick of wood about the same size as mine resting on my abs. I looked into his face and smiled as I said,

"Well, I didn't want to look twice at you, `cause you were such an asshole . . . I didn't want to, but I had to `cause you so freakin' cute."

He leaned down and took my lips with his; I thrust my tongue into his mouth, licked over his teeth, pulled back and drew that bottom lip between my teeth again. He tugged it free, then sat back a little and smirked as he regarded me--that pouty lip look fixing me like a bug on a pin,

"I shouldn't tell you this but I can't help myself," I murmured, "As cute as you are--especially when you pout at me like that--I'll never be able to tell you `no' to anything."

"I like the sound of that GI," he responded, perfectly mimicking a Korean whore "so, will you suck my dick, and then fuck me silly?" he thrust the lip out even further and made puppy dog eyes at me, "Will you please?"

What could I do? I kissed his mouth then nibbled my way down his neck to his nipples; I licked sucked and nipped each of them and was gratified at his whimpering moans and hisses; I tongued part of the outline of his abs and tongue fucked his belly button, and then I licked my way to the crease of his thigh to his perineum, and teased the very tip top of his hairless anus with the tip of my tongue. Alex quivered like a Jell-o mold in an earthquake. Then I licked the length of his dick, base to tip, swirled my tongue around the head, and eased it length into my gullet; then I drew back and bobbed on his knob for a good while and then, spitting it out, beat it against my outthrust tongue and lips. Alex was enjoying the treatment, or he was the best actor in the whole of North America; he cooed and cursed, and whined, whimpered and hissed--he did everything short of sing the Battle Hymn of the Republic--to express his pleasure. The one expression I was after was his nut in my mouth, and after about ten minutes of this treatment, Dupree rewarded me with a huge load of cum, for a second I thought semen would squirt out of my nose! I managed to swallow a copious amount, and licked the rest from his belly; I gently nuzzled his super sensitive cock, and after making sure it was clean, relinquished it to rest. I slid my body up beside him and kissed his face.

Dear Alex Dupree was gasping and wheezing like a worn out compressor.

"Damn Baby," Dupree murmured after he'd caught his breath, "that was good."

Without another sound, he kissed me and starting with my earlobes nibbled and tongued his way down my body. Now I did gurgle like Homer Simpson with a box of donuts; I hissed and softly cursed as Dupree played me like a guitar. He skipped over my bone and started nipping at the inside of my thighs--I could feel my nut starting to build--and took my balls one by one into his mouth.

"You're gonna make nut Babyboy," I hissed.

Dupree ignored me and finally started in on my stick. He licked it up and down, teased the head and lapped at the piss slit. Tingles, shocks and thrills rippled through me as Dupree worked the dick; he seemed to sense just where my point of no return was and delighted in keeping me on that torturous edge. Finally I couldn't hold back any longer and felt my entire life force shoot out of my dick and into Dupree's throat. I nutted so hard that, by rights, Dupree should have gotten whiplash. I lay there sweating and gasping like a trout in the bottom of a boat. He slid his beautiful body up next to me and with a heartbreakingly sweet smile whispered,

"I win!"

I started to laugh, and when I finally caught my breath, I kissed him tenderly and protested,

"That wasn't even fair; my crotch muscles are gonna be sore as fuck."

We lay contentedly together and then after a while, we rose in sync and used the toilet and got into the shower. With little sex play we lovingly washed each other. We dried ourselves and retreated to my bunk and snuggled down under the covers. I drifted off to sleep with Alex Dupree wrapped in my arms, and I knew happiness.

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