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(This is a newly written story which I’ve shared elsewhere too. Jonah Falcon is an American actor, perhaps best known for owning the world’s biggest functioning penis. Nine and a half inches long flaccid and thirteen and a half fully erect, with a girth of some eight inches, it is an impressive organ. Since coming to public attention in a big way in 1999, Jonah has undertaken numerous radio, television and online magazine interviews. Those interviews have, for entirely understandable reasons, focused in large measure on his sexual prowess and the challenges as well as opportunities which go with having a large penis in the bedroom. To the best of my knowledge Jonah has shared little of the urological implications of having such a large penis beyond the fact that he doesn’t use urinals and sits to pee when he has to. That is his right and prerogative. It has a flip side though to the extent that those who have an interest in the urological side will, in the absence of authoritative information, join up the dots in whatever way stacks up or makes sense to them. What follows is entirely a work of fiction although it contains some elements which have a basis in fact (no prizes for spotting them) a great deal of conjecture and a splash or two of ‘make believe.’ At present I don’t know whether or not any sequels will follow, but I hope you enjoy it.) Jonah Falcon jumped into the shower and, as soon as the water hit him, he began peeing, lashings of rich, copper coloured pee pouring out of his huge, thick cock, foaming as it hit the cubicle floor and mingling with shower water and the soapy lather generated by the gel as he generously rubbed himself with it. Ah what blessed relief it was too! That sheer relief was well justified because the last time he’d emptied his bladder had been eleven hours earlier, some three hours before adjourning to bed. Unlike the miserable, dutiful wees taken by a million or two other New Yorkers at this time of the morning for no better reason than that they didn’t want to get taken short on the Metro or in some broken office elevator, he was doing it simply because he needed and wanted to. Gradually the torrent pouring out of his penis subsided to a trickle and eventually stopped. It had been two minutes of utter bliss and he was sorry once it finally came to an end. Finishing his shower off, Jonah stepped out of the cubicle and towelled off. This morning he was in a reflective mood and, as he reached for his T-shirt and spandex pants, Jonah considered just how lucky he was to be a young, single man, free to pee as and when he wanted. Jonah’s rather chaotic upbringing meant that he’d missed out on the sort of systematic toilet training that was the lot, one could almost say the misfortune, of many people. No one had ever insisted that he go pee last thing before bed at night or first thing in the morning and he’d never been punished or scolded for a wet bed. As for the question of peeing before long journeys, it had always been left for him to decide. If he wanted to go he did, if he didn’t he didn’t. This carefree approach wasn’t without its hazards and, even now at twenty, there might be the very occasional pair of soaked pants or wet bed, but such incidents were certainly not frequent – or at the very least rare enough to cause him no great concern. Always a bit pee shy in public and certainly never one for urinals, Jonah had rather developed a habit of holding it. Living in New York maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing as genuine public bathrooms, that is ones not attached to bars, eateries or bookshops, were few and far between. Of the ones that existed, some were so bad that he regarded holding it as infinitely preferable to using them. If it would have done his employment prospects any good, Jonah could quite truthfully have put on his CV that he’d never needed a hall pass and, in fact, never even gone to the toilet at High School. Instead, he’d hold it all day, even on those cold winter mornings which challenged most people’s bladders. On more occasions than a few he was acutely aware of the chill air as it blew through his shorts on the games field, mercilessly tormenting both penis and bladder. Back home for three, he’d often still not pee until four or five. After all, a growing young man had other things to do with his penis during that first hour or two of afternoon leisure in his bedroom. Even when he stayed on to play basketball he’d change and go out to play without peeing, still making it through the game and somehow just lasting until he got home. Leon, his friend and a fellow basketball player, also frequently played on a full bladder but often wasn’t so lucky, soaking his shorts uncontrollably more times than a few. Things came to a head for Jonah when he was 18 and in his last year at school. One day some so called ‘mates’ bet him that he couldn’t drink four bottles of Diet Coke (2 litres in total) during the lunch recess and make it through the afternoon without peeing. In the event he had the last laugh, manfully holding all afternoon whilst they frantically dashed for the bathrooms between lessons. On that particular afternoon he did make a dash for the bathroom as soon as he got home, hot pee spurting into his pants before he could get them down. By the time he left school, Jonah’s holding abilities although not widely known, were certainly noticed by some, Jonah regretfully noting that they tended to be people who took what he regarded as a ‘dirty’ interest in such things. At that stage he was getting noticed far more widely, less for his pee holding abilities than the size of his cock which was considerable and produced a pronounced bulge in his pants wherever he went. In fact, the temptation to go out in pants which were a size or so too small for him, was sometimes more than he could resist. A further additional but unintended consequence of wearing flyless pants a size or two too small was that they meant bathroom visits were an even greater hassle than would otherwise be the case, so they incentivised pee holding even more. Girls naturally took an interest in him, although it was obvious that more often than not his cock was the main attraction. There were a few short relationships, some sex – some better than others, and some casual stands. Some girls were quite up for having a cock his size in their pussies. Others, initially enthusiastic, lost their enthusiasm as soon as he dropped his pants and they saw just how big it was. One girlfriend, Susan, had absolutely no fear of his cock and was more than up for it. What she did fear, though, was his bladder. It came as something of a shock to Jonah when she demanded that he had to pee before getting into bed with her. Being told he ‘had’ to pee was unchartered territory for Jonah and he resented it, particularly as he didn’t need to go at the time. His pleas of “But I don’t need to go” and “But I only went two hours ago” fell on deaf ears. Susan was quite implacable. Standing in Susan’s bathroom that first evening, Jonah felt an overwhelming sense of despair and gloom. He neither wanted nor needed to use the toilet. It was ten o’clock at night. Why the fuck would he want to pee at such an hour? Standing, in the vain hope of making some audible noise, he’d be lucky to pass a dessertspoonful of urine. Sitting, his preferred – indeed normal - posture and the one acknowledged by medical experts to be most efficient for emptying the male bladder, it might stretch to a tablespoonful – 15ml or so. With a urethra as long as his, and bladder so well practised at holding, neither was worth the effort. Frustrated by the sheer futility of attempting to give Susan the peace of mind she craved, Jonah spotted a plastic tumbler lurking behind the sink. Filling it as quietly as he could from the hot tap, Jonah them emptied the warm water slowly into the toilet to imitate a peeing sound, taking care to hold his cock so that the tip of his penis, particularly the meatus/ pee hole area was thoroughly soaked. Carefully replacing the beaker, Jonah flushed the toilet and washed his hands. As he climbed into bed with Susan, the end of his penis still wet with the warm water, he felt a quiet sense of satisfaction. He repeated this exercise every night he slept with Susan over the next four weeks. So far as she was concerned he’d done the wee she wanted him to and he got the sex he wanted too. It was only a small deceit and the wetness at the end of his penis each night surely convinced her that he’d peed. Doing a pretend wee in exchange for real sex, he felt that he’d really got the better side of the bargain. One night he went into the bathroom and there was no tumbler. Still convinced he could pull it off, Jonah quietly wet the end of his penis with warm water, taking the same meticulous care as usual, flushed the toilet and washed his hands. As he walked into the bedroom the wetness at the end of his penis glistened in the light. Susan peered up at him from above the duvet, a slightly accusing look in her eyes. “Jonah, you haven’t peed, have you? I didn’t hear you pee for a start.” Put on the spot, Jonah blushed slightly, but hoped he could somehow still get away with his little bit of play acting. “Yes, I have Susan, look. If you don’t believe me have a feel.” Susan reached out and felt the end of his cock. “That’s not pee. Jonah, as well you know. It’s water.” “Well there’s water in the bathroom – rather a lot of it in fact. Maybe it got splashed a bit when I was washing.” Susan’s patience all but deserted her. “Stop digging, Jonah. You were rumbled a fortnight ago. The bathroom door has got a keyhole you know. Very clever that trick with the tumbler. I decided to let you have the benefit of the doubt before removing it and see if you’d still try to trick me into believing you’d peed.” Jonah held his face in his hands. His little game, innocent enough and designed to meet both their needs, was up. “Look I’m really, really sorry, Susan. You’ve every right to be angry but I didn’t set out to deceive you for the sake of it. Look, I’ll tell it as it is. Nowadays, depending on what I’m doing I get to pee sometime between five and seven in an evening, by which time I’ve held for ten to twelve hours. I meet you at eight when you finish work and we get something to eat. We’re back here for nine thirty and you want to fuck at ten. There’s no way I can pee a meaningful amount so soon after the last one.” Susan gave him a hard look. “Most men can.” Jonah found himself on the defensive. “Well I’m not most men. Most men can’t hold the way I do. Look, if you want proof, here it is.” Jonah pointed his penis at Susan and strained. A teaspoon full of pee flew out of his penis and landed on the duvet before a second hit Susan in the right eye. “Oi. Stop that!” “Well you wanted proof and now you’ve got it. That’s how much pee you’ll get out of me three hours after I’ve been.” Susan wiped the pee out of her eye. “Okay Jonah. Point taken. Look you can have one last fuck tonight having proved you can pee after all. I think we should go our separate ways tomorrow though. Look, it’s not your fault, it’s me. I need a guy who can pee properly before sex.” “Why? If a guy’s hard he’s not going to piss in you.” Susan shook her head. “Jonah, you’ve not been around as long as I have. Take it from a woman – an older woman – that some of them can and do. I just need that bit of reassurance and if that means getting him to drain his main vein before business that’s the way it has to be. Look, come here. I’m not really cross – just disappointed. You’re a bloody good actor though. Why don’t you enrol at drama school?” Returning to the present, Jonah made his way into the kitchen and poured himself a large mug of milky coffee. It was a two-pint mug, one a friend had given him for Christmas. It was six months since he’d finished with Susan but he’d taken her advice and enrolled at drama school. It wasn’t so bad either. There were plenty of fit birds there and his package gained him a fair bit of attention. He’d always been interested in acting but Susan’s words had given him the final push he’d wanted. Furthermore, this afternoon they were doing some filming which included a pee scene and he’d been picked on, he guessed on account of his cock, to play the part of the guy who peed. He’d never peed for the camera before and hoped it would not only be a first but a last. No doubt there would be countless retakes with the director endlessly shouting “Cut.” Finishing his coffee, Jonah filled his water bottle and put it in his rucksack. Water was great for maintaining hydration but it was pretty useless as a diuretic – at least in his experience. No doubt he’d have an extra-large Starbucks at lunchtime and pick up a few cans of that new energy drink. He wanted to perform on cue, after all. THE END