Finger Lickin' Homies

The phone rang. It was Miles: "Hey man, I just pulled into the auto shop. My brakes were going out and I'm dropping off the car. My girlfriend is outta town for work. Can you swing by and pick me up? I need to get out of here."

Jake was in his kitchen, staring down a masterpiece of comfort food. He had been looking forward to eating this all day long. He had sliced the potato so thin, and this was going to be perfect. He had waited until it cooled to just the right temperature. The dish was bubbling with a golden, cheesy crust, and the homemade béchamel sauce was thick and luscious. Jake didn't live with his girlfriend, and so he could indulge in these rich foods whenever he wanted.

Jake tells Miles, "Hang on, I'm just going to grab a little food to go. I'll be right there."

By the time Jake got to Miles at the auto shop, the mug was nearly half-empty. Miles got in, immediately catching the scent of the cheesy, savory aroma. "Are those your famous scalloped potatoes? I know that you fucking love those. I bet I could just lick that dish clean right now."

Jake reached into the cup holder and pulled out a fork, holding it out to Miles. "Want some? I brought a fork for you."

Miles looked at the fork, then at the mug, and shook his head. "No, I can't do it. The sour cream will rip my belly up. Maybe we could swing by Taco Bell, and I can get some tacos without the sour cream, of course."

They were barely out of the lot when Miles said, "The smell of those potatoes is driving me wild. Now I'm fucking starving. Swing by Taco Bell and pick up some tacos for us."

Miles ran into the store while Jake waited in the car. When Miles got back, he tossed a bag of tacos onto the center console and immediately reached for the mug. "Damn, these smell good," Miles muttered, his fingers brushing against Jake's hand. As he was balancing the bag and the cup to get comfortable, his pinkie finger accidentally slipped into the mug and sank into the warm, creamy mixture. He pulled it out, shaking it slightly, and waved it in front of Jake's face. "Oh, shit. Sorry, man. Got a little potato and sour cream on me."

Jake didn't think. He just leaned forward and took that dripping finger into his mouth, sucking the sour cream and potatoes off Miles's skin, cleaning it with a wet, sloppy sound. "I wasn't gonna let that masterpiece go to waste!" Jake chuckled.

Miles felts a stirring in his pants that he's never felt before. His girlfriend would have never done that, but now his closest homie was sucking on a small finger.

At the next stoplight, the air in the car grew thick. Miles was curious, and his eyes drifted to the mug. With a smirk, he deliberately submerged his thumb into the mug, swirling it around in the thick, gooey scalloped potatoes and sour cream until it was coated in a white, milky paste. He pulled his thumb out and held it right in front of Jake's face, teasing him with it.

The light turned green, and without a word, Jake lunged forward. He grabbed Miles's wrist and took that thumb into his mouth, sucking it hard like a baby nursing. He tongued the tip, swirling his tongue around the thumb pad, getting every bit of sour cream. But he didn't stop. He deep-throated the thumb, gagging slightly, and held it there, letting saliva mix with the potato sauce, nursing on it with desperate intensity.

When they pulled into his driveway, Jake finally let go of Miles's thumb, his lips glistening with a thick, white mixture of saliva and sour cream. He stared down at the massive tent straining against Miles's jeans, his own mouth watering. Miles shifted his weight, a drop of sweat rolling down his temple as he gripped the Taco Bell bag tighter. "I've got something for you," Miles said, his voice dropping an octave, dripping with desire.

They went inside. "I'll get the drinks," Jake said, his voice husky as he headed to the kitchen. When he came back into the living room, Miles was sitting on the edge of the sofa, the mug of potatoes sitting on the coffee table beside him. His pants were already undone, his cock out and hanging heavy, dripping with anticipation.

"I couldn't wait," Miles said, his eyes dark as he looked at Jake. "I'm starving. I don't know why, but I need this." He reached into the mug, scooped up a spoonful of the cold, thick scalloped potatoes, and let it drip over the head of his soft cock before swirling his thumb around the mushroom tip to mix the warm skin with the cold, cheesy starch. He held it out like a lollipop, looking right at Jake. "Get it off."

Jake dropped to his knees between Miles's legs immediately. He didn't even wait for an invitation. He took the mug from Miles's hand and bent down, inhaling the cheesy, savory aroma before his mouth engulfed Miles's cock. Jake sucked with aggressive determination, his tongue working overtime to scrape the potatoes and sour cream off the sensitive skin. The mix of the cold potatoes and the heat of Miles's flesh was shocking, and Jake groaned around the shaft, the texture sending electric shocks through his system.

Miles groaned, his hips jerking up. "Yeah, fuck," he breathed, resting his hand on the back of Jake's head to hold him there. Jake pulled back, thick ropes of spit and sauce dripping from his chin. He looked up at Miles, eyes wide and needy.

Miles grabbed the mug again and dunked his cock back in, swirling it around to coat it with more goo. "Clean it," Miles commanded.

Jake went back to work. He slurped loudly, the wet sounds echoing in the room as he cleaned every inch of Miles's shaft. It was disgusting, the mix of starch, cheese, and saliva, but Jake couldn't get enough. Miles got harder, his veins bulging against the skin. He began to thrust his hips, using the mug to get more potatoes, forcing Jake to take a mouthful of the cold, thick mixture while he sucked Miles off. The potatoes were getting mushy, turning into a paste that coated Jake's throat.

Finally, Miles pulled the cock out for the last time, glistening with a thick layer of the cheesy mess. He fed it to Jake, who swallowed the entire thing in one go, working his throat around the mushroom head until Miles threw his head back and exploded. He came hard, spurting directly into Jake's mouth, mixing his salty load with the cold, creamy potatoes. Jake swallowed every drop, his throat working to gulp down the salty load mixed with the creamy potatoes, the texture overwhelming and erotic. He pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, looking like a mess of white sauce and saliva.

"Hey, you don't have to go. You could stay the night," Miles said, his voice dropping to a rough, husky whisper. "Maybe you can take me back to the shop in the morning."

Miles didn't wait for a response. He reached out and gripped Jake's wrist, his grip firm and possessive, and guided him away from the living room. The hallway was dim, lit only by the faint glow of a streetlamp outside the window. Miles pulled him down the hall, his hand warm against Jake's skin, until they reached the bedroom door. He pushed it open, stepping inside and turning to look at Jake, a smirk playing on his lips. "Come here."