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Henry has sun-kissed, blonde skin and lips, and is adorned with a lip ring and tats that extend from shoulder to shoulders. He also looks half grin, half sneer, and just the right amount of sexiness. Henry loves to show off his ink, so he doesn’t wear his shirt for too long. The real reward lies beneath the belt. This jaw-breaker is ten inches thick of white, cut meat. It’s impressive even when it’s soft, but once you try hard enough, the monster will rip out your tonsils. To give the meat more breathing space, he doesn’t waste time and digs into his pants. A salami with such epic proportions requires all the space it can get. Henry is wearing a longhorn broncoA around his navel. This is the first time advertising has been honest. The phrase “A bullA hung” was rarely so accurate. It seems as though his head will touch his nipple with a quick one-handed stroke. He strokes at the meat with the same nonchalance only a well-hung person could. He looks up at the ceiling, like the Washington Monument or Eiffel Tower. He seems to sometimes be as taken aback by that view as us, with an equal amount of pride and amazement at the size of the meat. Henry finally takes off his pants and we can see the golden, trimmed fuzz at the bottom that he is a true natural blonde. As if he were cocking his pistol, he pulls the meat back as though he was. The resounding sound it makes when it hits against his stomach echoes as loud as a gunshot. The view from his perch, looking upwards over the colossal, heavily-hunging balls that run the length of the shaft is like a flyover of the wonders of nature. Henry, who is lying on his back with a mischievous smile, sends an all-out spray to that tattooed stomach and does a quick send-off to those ball-laden balls.
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