His dick was the size of a racehorse. Not the size of a racehorse’s dick, but the size of an actual full-grown racehorse.
When Cleveland Cassidy was born, the first thing the doctor said was, “Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Cassidy. You have a son with a very large dick.”
The nurses in the room were all immediately flushed.
Mrs. Cassidy, covered in sweat, tears, placenta and feces, passed out when she saw the appendage.
Mr. Cassidy, a bit jealous, asked, “Is it normal for a baby to have a bigger dick than his dad?” His own dick, the size of a dog’s, felt like it shrunk inside of his pants at the sight.
“No, I assure you, this is far from normal,” the doctor said with admiration.
“Is there anything we should do?”
“Keep him away from porn.”
It had been a blessing at first. A great conversational piece, a great way to show up all the guys, a great way to drive all the ladies wild. It grew at the same rate as his body for the first few years, but once he hit puberty, it seemed to expand exponentially.
By the time it stopped growing, at the age of eighteen, Cleveland Cassidy’s dick was the size of Man O War. There was literally nothing he could do with it.
“Mr. Cassidy,” the doctor told him before he was old enough for such a title (although the size of his dick warranted such a name from the very beginning of his life), “you must never get an erection. You will die instantly.”
Prior to this warning, he had never even thought to get an erection. Nothing had quite been grand enough to warrant such a flow of blood.
“Is it even possible?” he asked the doctor.
The doctor pondered the question long after Cleveland left the office.
In school they watched a video on Elephantiasis. Cleveland began to feel like a freak. He went back to the doctor.
“Do I have Elephantiasis?”
“No, you just have a massive dick.”
“But there must be something wrong with me,” Cleveland insisted, his large genitalia staring at the doctor.
“Nope. You just have what all men wish for.”
“Do you wish you had a dick like this?” Cleveland tried to lift it as he spoke, but his arms were tired from carrying the member up the stairs to the doctor’s office.
“No, of course not. It looks quite inconvenient actually. I simply meant that you possess what all men dream of having, but they don’t really understand what they are dreaming about. There isn’t even the remote possibility that you could ever have sex. You’ll never even have an orgasm.”
As Cleveland drove home from the doctor, his dick riding shotgun, he vowed that he would have sex one day just to spite the doctor. Surely there was a vagina that could handle his racehorse dick.
To practice the hopeful moment when he would finally have sex, Cleveland spent hours staring at naked pictures of women on the computer. When the pictures did nothing to stir his dick, he tried some videos. He began with solo girls, then moved to girl-on-girl before finally graduating to videos of hardcore sex. He tried to imagine himself having sex with the girls, but all he could do was laugh at how small all of the dicks were. Staring at the tiny dicks that penetrated the women, he imagined how something that was equal to the size of his entire body would have a chance of fitting inside someone.
Years went by. Cleveland spent a little time each day watching porn hoping for even the slightest hint of an erection. Still nothing moved. When he had exhausted every possible outlet for sexual fantasies, he decided to give up. The good doctor was right. Cleveland decided to go about living a normal life as best he could, graduating from school and getting a job at an office. He was supplied with an extra large cubicle to accommodate his disability.
Many years later, at the ripe old age of sixty-seven, Cleveland Cassidy, a permanent bachelor, contemplated retiring from his job. Everyone had waited for this day with bated breath, hoping they could swoop in and get the large cubicle. “Aren’t you ever going to retire?” they would constantly hound him. He didn’t see any point. There was nothing waiting for him at home except for the empty promises of unsatisfying pornography.
As he approached his boss’s office, he noticed for the first time the gorgeous secretary that had directed the phone calls and filed the mail for so many years. Looking at her legs through her nude nylons, he began to feel a twinge that felt a little like going to the bathroom.
“Hi Cleveland,” she said with a smile as he wobbled uncomfortably past her with his full load in tow.
“Howdy, ma’m,” he responded with a nod of his head.
“How are you today?”
“Well, I’m just fine. I’m on my way to re…” He hesitated before finishing the sentence, thinking about what had just occurred. Looking at this woman had given him a feeling he had never quite had before. So long ago he had given up the dream of even achieving an erection, but here he was, a sixty-seven year old man long overdue for retirement, his massive dick held firmly in his hands. Perhaps he was making a mistake. Perhaps he had wound up at this office for thirty-nine years for some profound purpose.
“Would you like me to help you with that?” she said, pointing to the retirement letter he held sandwiched between his hand and his dick.
The moment was brief, but it brought him more joy than he had experienced in his sixty-seven years on Earth.
The life insurance check barely covered the cost of the two plots required for his burial.
"Cleveland Cassidy's Dick"
Copyright: © 2010 Nathaniel Tower
Copyright: © 2010 Nathaniel Tower
Nathaniel Tower writes fiction, teaches English, and manages the online literary magazine Bartleby Snopes (www.bartlebysnopes.com).