Cold Turkey
A Gay To Straight Thanksgving Special
Jared had always imagined his Thanksgiving would end with a tryptophan coma, a slice of pie he didn’t need, and his boyfriend’s cold feet tucked under his thighs on the couch. He did not imagine it would end with him standing in the middle of their now-shared, no-longer apartment, staring down at a half-defrosted turkey in the sink as if it were a witness to a crime.
In a way, it was.
Forty-eight hours earlier, he had walked in on his boyfriend—his ex-boyfriend—engaging in activities with another man that involved far too much enthusiasm and one of Jared’s good bath towels. Fine linens were the real betrayal, in Jared’s opinion.
The rest of it was predictable: his boyfriend, always chasing validation, always needing attention like oxygen. Just smiled when Jared saw him on all fours as he was about to get plowed by one of the biggest dicks in the county. Jared just didn’t think the attention would come from, or that such a huge rod could be attached to, a man named Gage with tribal tattoos and the emotional vocabulary of a potato.
Anything is possible.
But here he was. Thanksgiving morning. Alone. Cold apartment. Colder turkey.
He poked it with a wooden spoon. It jiggled. He sighed.
“Happy holidays, Jared,” he muttered to his cucked, pathetic self.
He had already rejected three invitations to friends’ homes, too embarrassed to tell them the truth. “Oh, we’re just doing something small this year,” he lied over texts, because the truth felt too pathetic, even for him. The truth was he had nowhere to be, no family visiting, and a cavernous silence in the apartment that made everything echo—including his self-pity.
So he did what any emotionally compromised millennial would do: he opened social media.
Big mistake.
Everyone was smiling. Everyone was wearing cinnamon-colored sweaters and holding babies and emotional support pies. Couples posted photos in front of fireplaces. Even the dogs looked smug. Even the homosexual whores he followed on the platform were in the Turkey spirit. One of them posted a video of “how to properly stuff your turkey” — as in getting stuffed with cock up the ass.
Jared scrolled until his thumb hurt.
Then a post stopped him.
A woman—he didn’t know her—stood in her kitchen with a giant turkey on the counter. She had messy hair, tear-rimmed eyes, and a defeated smile. The caption read:
“Guess it’s just me and this turkey. My date bailed. Again. Happy Thanksgiving, I guess.”
Her username: @Clara_Cooks_But_Poorly
Her energy: chaos and despair.
Her vibe: the human version of a wet grocery bag.
But Jared felt something soften in his chest. Maybe pity. Maybe recognition. Or just maybe the fact that she looked how he felt—alone in a holiday meant for togetherness.
He clicked her profile.
The last three posts were varying shades of emotional collapse:
“My therapist says I catastrophize, but what if she’s wrong and I’m just accurately preparing for disaster?”
“Accidentally bought a 14-pound turkey because numbers are hard.”
“My boyfriend dumped me for someone else. Please send wine.”
Oh.
He read the last one again. Dumped… by someone else. Someone else…
He clicked the tagged username of her ex.
@GageFlex97.
Jared choked on his own spit.
“No. Way.”
He tapped the profile.
Same face. Same tattoos. Same emotionally hollow eyes. There was a picture of him at a pool with wet Speedos on. Allowing for a clear view of his humongous bulge. Yup, that’s him.
Jared blinked so hard he saw stars.
He stared at her picture again—the lonely woman and the turkey. The turkey looked defeated, too, probably because it sensed the energy in the room.
Jared should have left it alone. He should have gone for a walk, or started a new show, or maybe roasted the turkey in defiance. But heartbreak plus irony plus boredom is a dangerous cocktail.
So he messaged her.
Jared:
Hey.
Your ex is also my ex’s side piece.
Happy Thanksgiving.
It took her three minutes to respond—three minutes of Jared pacing in his kitchen, horrified at himself.
Clara:
omg
IS THIS REAL
Please tell me this is real because it would make my entire week.
Jared:
Unfortunately, yes.
I wish it was the turkey hallucinations talking, but no.
Clara:
I’m laughing so hard I might pass out.
He left me for a guy???
Jared:
Apparently, he left you for MY boyfriend.
So really, he left you for me.
Sort of.
In a love triangle neither of us signed up for.
There was a pause.
Then…
Clara:
………
Want to meet up?
I refuse to let this turkey be my only witness today.
Jared stared at the screen.
He had two options. Stay alone with his thawing emotional support bird. Or, meet the only person in the city who understood the precise flavor of humiliation he currently felt.
He grabbed his jacket.
Clara lived only a ten-minute walk away. When she opened the door, she looked exactly like her posts: wide-eyed, messy bun, sweater too big for her, turkey smell clinging to the air like a bad decision.
And she smiled at him like she had known him forever.
“You’re Jared,” she said.
“You’re Clara.”
They stared for half a second too long—two people shell-shocked by life—and then she stepped aside to let him in.
Her apartment was small, warm, and aggressively cozy, as though she was compensating for emotional instability with throw pillows. A half-cooked turkey sat on the counter.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she confessed immediately. “It told me to baste it. I don’t even know what basting is. I haven’t basted anything in my life. I can barely baste my own emotions.”
She talked fast when anxious. Jared recognized the type.
“Same,” he said while he stared into the empty cavity of the Turkey where the stuffing should’ve been. “Emotionally speaking. My turkey is still frozen. I might have accidentally broken one of its legs.”
“On purpose? Or maybe out of anger?”
“No. It just… happened.”
They caught themselves staring at each other again. Then they cracked up laughing.
They ended up sitting on her couch with mugs of tea neither of them drank, talking like survivors of the same natural disaster. Sharing the same apprehensions, but then found relief in knowing they shared the same fallout.
Clara revealed she had been dating Gage for three months. He had seemed charming at first—thoughtful, attentive, good at remembering small details.
“Then suddenly,” she said, “he became obsessed with the gym. And I mean obsessed in a way that felt like cheating because he talked about bench-pressing more than me.”
Jared nodded. “Same. Except mine talked about Gage more than me toward the end. Which, in hindsight, should have been a sign. But, you know, I —we— didn’t see it.”
They paused. Absurdity washed over them again.
Clara pulled her legs onto the couch. “I can’t believe this is our Thanksgiving. I wonder if I should even go out shopping tomorrow. Maybe I’ll run into someone whom Gage owed money. Hopefully, it’s only money.” She tried to both laugh and unlaugh.
“Well,” Jared said, “it’s very on-brand for my life. I’ve had chaotic weeks, but getting dumped indirectly by the same guy as my new Thanksgiving companion is… a new one.”
She smiled at him. A soft, grateful smile. “I’m glad we uh… You came.”
He felt something warm settle in his chest. He hadn’t felt warmth in days. It wasn’t a new feeling. But it felt new to him.
“Me too.”
Time passed strangely. Comfortably. Like he had known her longer than he had.
They talked about their childhoods, their families, and their failed relationships. Clara admitted she had always feared being unlovable.
“I know it’s stupid,” she said, “but him leaving me made it feel true.”
Jared shook his head. “No. That’s his damage. Not yours. He decided to do that. Not you.”
She looked at him like his words landed somewhere she didn’t expect.
“You’re really kind,” she whispered.
“And you’re… surprisingly easy to talk to. Especially for a guy like me. Well, I am gay, so that may make it easier. Maybe?” He laughed a little at himself until he caught Clara looking at him.
She was already blushing. Not dramatically—just a soft flush on her cheeks that made her look younger, gentler. He wasn’t attracted to women—obviously—but he noticed it. The softness. The vulnerability. The beauty in her awkwardness.
It startled him how much he noticed.
She chewed her lip. “Can I tell you something?”
“Sure,” he replied automatically as though some outside force made him to.
“I didn’t want to spend today alone. It scared me. Not the being alone part. But the feeling like I deserved it.”
Jared exhaled slowly.
“I get that,” he said. “More than you think.”
They sat quietly for a moment. Outside, someone’s wind chimes tinkled. The turkey crackled in the oven. The apartment felt warmer than before.
“You know,” Clara said, “I think we both need to go cold turkey.”
He squinted. “On… poultry?”
“No,” she said softly. “On them. On our fears. On the versions of us that put up with people who didn’t want to choose us. We just… stop. Cold turkey.”
He thought about it. About his patterns. His passivity. The way he let people—men—decide his worth. He almost squinted as these thoughts ran through his mind. He thought about it. Without sounding crazy, he actually thought that Clara had a point.
“You might be right,” he said.
Clara shifted closer. Not in a flirting way, not exactly. More like the universe gently tilted her toward him. Her knee brushed his. He didn’t pull away.
“This is nice,” she murmured.
“What is?”
“Not being alone. And being understood.”
Jared nodded. He meant to say something comforting, something neutral, something safe. But when he turned his head, she was looking right at him—eyes soft, lips parted, breath shallow.
A strange tension flickered up his spine. Familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.
He swallowed. She didn’t look away.
“Jared,” she whispered, “can I…?”
She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t have to.
Something shifted in the air. Something delicate. Something dangerous.
She was so close he could feel the warmth of her breath. Her vulnerability. Her need. And his own unexpected response to it.
He felt the world narrow to a single point—the space between them, the way her eyelashes fluttered, the tremble in her hands as she reached up, hesitated, then gently touched his cheek.
He closed his eyes. He didn’t pull away.
And for the first time in his life, something in him opened. Something he didn’t recognize. Something terrifying and thrilling.
She whispered, “We’re both allowed to want something different today.”
He exhaled. Slow. Shaking.
The turkey beeped in the kitchen—but neither of them moved.
What happened next was slow, tender, uncertain—two people stepping out of their old selves, just for a moment, just long enough to touch something real.
And Jared realized… Going cold turkey didn’t mean losing something. Sometimes it meant finally letting something in.
Clara’s hand was already exploring his chest. Her fingers were gently playing with his follicles.
“Clara, I think the turkey’s ready…”
But when she looked down, she noticed that Jared was growing under his pants.
“So are you.” She had to sit on his lap while her finger lightly touched the top of his still-growing bulge. It wobbled a little to her delight.
He tried his best to hide his erection, but it was useless. Now it was his turn to blush.
Without letting him go out of her sight, she unbuttoned her blouse.
Jared’s eyes widened with fright and titillation. He never thought in a million years that he would ever see a woman’s breasts. He only thought about it once. Years ago. But he laughed it off. Now he wasn’t laughing. He froze as her giant naked tits fell gently and danced to the gingle of the windchime playing outside.
“Those look…” He was trying to find the correct words to complement her hooters. But before he could properly respond, she shoved her meaty melons all over his face.
After a few seconds, she left his face all red and his hair all disheveled. She stared at him for a quick second before letting out a small laugh.
“There’s no need to compliment my body. All you have to do is appreciate it.”
It took a few seconds, but Jared finally got a clue. He slowly reached out for one of her tits. He then lightly massaged it with this trembling hand.
Soon, he gave in. Something in him made him do the unthinkable, and his lips were now all over her bust.
Clara giggled a little again before resting on the couch as Jared continued to eat her boobs. When their eyes finally met, he had to remind her again about the beeping coming from the kitchen.
“You don’t want that turkey to dry up in that oven.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s going to be nice and moist.”
After a short makeout session, Jared found himself face-to-face with her hairy pussy. It looked intimidating, but he gave it a go.
Clara’s now relaxed head fell back as she began to feel Jared’s slippery tongue massage the entry into her most intimate space. The other men were so eager and rapid with how they ate her out. Gage was always aggressive with his tongue moves. But Jared was different.
He only licked her pussy lips. It took him a while, but his tongue finally made its way through. Making Clara’s back arch, allowing her body to feel every sweet sensation coming from her now wet cunt.
When his mouth was finally locked onto her puffy mound, his fingers gently moved her bush out of the way, allowing for strict eye contact. He saw how much she enjoyed it. Her light cuddling of his chin and cheeks confirmed it, too.
Not bad for a gay man, she thought.
When it was finally his turn, he sat there frozen but focused. Trying his best to control his breathing as Clara began to unbuckle his pants.
Jared’s erection was straining against a rainbow colored jockstrap. It was a colorful tent that made Clara smile.
Before she came closer, he grabbed onto his erection. “I thought the guys at the park would like the colors.” Underneath his apprehension, he was, indeed, trying to brag.
When his hard cock was let loose, she was impressed. It was long, thin, but very pleasing to her eye. Her mouth began to water.
Her hand lightly massaged his meat, making it rub against his neatly shaved body. By the time she was done, his leaky manhood already left a shiny mess on his tan skin.
Jared was already getting ready by taking off his shirt and revealing his twunky torso. She looked at him. But then, when she glanced at this cock that was pulsating on her hand, she developed a different look.
Without saying anything, she got up and left. She ran down the hall and into her bedroom. She sighed before sitting on her bed.
When Jared appeared at the entrance to her bedroom, she could see his hard dick still pointing forward, dangling with each step.
“Sorry, maybe this is too much for you,” she wondered out loud before looking at his nakedness again. “I don’t want you to think that I am that kind of girl.”
“What kind of girl?”
“The kind of girl who would seduce a gay man on Thanksgiving because she felt lonely as fuck.” She tried to sound reasonable. But she was failing. She didn’t want to sound desperate, especially in front of a man. Gay or straight.
The beeping was sounding again in the kitchen.
“Maybe I should go then.” He began to unfurl his rainbow jockstrap before her voice stopped him.
“No. No, please.” She caught herself sounding desperate. She stopped. The reality was that she was indeed desperate. “Don’t leave me.”
After a second, he slowly walked into her bedroom. His cock was still hard from all the wonderful massaging she gave him.
“I just wanted,” she said while trying to find the words to say. “I just wanted to make sure that you were fine too.”
He smiled. Which led her to smile too.
It took a moment, but he finally came forward. He then climbed onto the bed and stood next to her. His rod was still hard and leaky. It was right next to her face.
She smiled and laughed as he landed his hard prick on her face. It was almost playful. She even had to smack one of his thin butt cheeks as her lips got closer to his cock.
“Nobody said that going cold turkey was easy,” he softly proclaimed. She was finally at ease. It was all she needed to hear before she opened her mouth for him.
She sucked him off well. When she gagged on his cock, it made him smile a bit. Her chin being caressed by him gave her reassurance.
Clara bobbed her head up and down his pulsating shaft. Every time she shifted her face, her hands massaged her giant boobs. It wasn’t until Jared began to do the same that she finally realized this was real.
She was caught by surprise when he finally spurted large strings of warm jizz into the back of her throat.
“Sorry, I should’ve warned you,” he said, sounding apologetic.
She just looked up to him as her tongue played with his seed between her cheeks. His cock stiffened up again when he saw how Clara swallowed his babies with gusto.
She began to giggle before they both began to laugh. They laughed at themselves. They laughed at their exes doing each other. They laughed at the beeping. They laughed at her cum stained mouth. They laughed at life.
“The turkey can wait,” she purred as Jarred’s dick hovered over her hairy cunt.
When he finally made entry into her wet insides, he let out a small wow that only he could hear.
Her legs gently wrapped around his hips, guiding him properly on how to fuck her. It took a few minutes and a couple of misses. But Jarred got the hang of it.
Clara giggled before kissing her new lover. She had to let go to let out a loud moan. He knew whatever he was doing was working. He continued to fuck her, making her moans louder. Soon, the moans became screams as his long pipe impaled her mercilessly.
The beeping from the turkey was now overtaken by her loud euphoria and the banging of her headboard, which was now echoing throughout her home.
Her murmurings became rowdy commands.
“Oh god, Jared! Fuck me! Fuck me like that!”
Jared’s naked body was now awashed with salty sweat, which was already raining on her sweaty peach skin as well.
“Yeah, take it. Take my cock,” he said under his breath before eating her boobs like crazy.
His wet cock slid in and out. With each thrust becoming more aggressive. These new sensations lifted him into the air. His mind was now up in the higher regions of the atmosphere.
When his dick finally exploded, he let out one of the most intense moans he had ever made during sex.
His second orgasm was even more wild than the first. His shaft kept spewing huge wads of his seed into her. He really dug in, making sure that his jizz reached all the way into her heart.
When his asscheeks finally relaxed, he saw all the slimy semen spew out of her torn cunt. He couldn’t believe what he just did.
“Fuck!” He tried to catch his breath before falling on the bed next to her.
Clara could only keep her head back while her fingers felt his semen inside her flooded pussy,
They were both silent for what seemed like forever.
The beeping from the turkey finally broke the ice.
“I dunno about you, but I am starving!” She said before locking her lips on his mouth. “You want some turkey?”
“Hope, it’s not too dry.”
“Better than it being cold, I am told.”
The turkey was okay. It could’ve been better. The mashed potatoes were better, though. The secret was to use plenty of butter, don’t over-mash them, and of course, keep some of the skin.
“You need skin in the game,” Clara said while she put some mashed potatoes on his nose.
After dinner, they had pie. After pie, they watched a movie. They didn’t say much. Nothing much needed to be told because after the movie, they had sex again.
He stayed with her that night, not because of loneliness or the need not to be alone. It was more than that.
When Clara woke up in the morning, she realized she was late for her planned Black Friday shopping day. She was already late. The traffic. The parking. It’s going to take forever to get to the mall.
Then she realized she was still lying next to Jared, snoring and sporting a healthy morning wood. He was still there. She lay her head on his chest and decided to stay in bed for a while longer.
There was no rush to get the best deal. She already got a good one.