Henry was referred to as Hobo Henry. The nickname was a misnomer and had been given to him unkindly because of his long hair and a scruffy appearance. Henry was the odd-jobber in our small town. He was slender and stood just over six feet tall. Henry was forty-two years old and had a pleasant face and expressive eyes. He had a loping gait and always looked like the most relaxed human being when he passed you by, seeming not to have a care in the world. He lived in a shack, devoid of all the amenities that we all take for granted in our daily lives.
About two months after I moved to the town, Henry popped into my gallery and formally introduced himself. He was very knowledgeable about the town’s history, and the flora of the surrounding area. He used one of the local plants when bathing and assured me it was better than any soap one could buy. As he was leaving after an hour long visit, he told me that I made the best coffee he had ever had. Although I saw him every three to four weeks after that, he was never a nuisance and only visited for an hour or so.
After a while Henry took to hugging me before and after his visits, telling me that I was one of the few townsfolk who treated him like a person. Scruffy as he was he wasn’t dirty. I never recall him ever smelling bad, or being grimy. From our infrequent chats I also got the impression that Henry was highly sexed. Another thing I noticed about him was that he had a very impressive lump in the genital region.
Henry was not a regular at the town’s pub, and I only recall bumping into him there on one occasion. I later learned that he had to control his drinking, because of a stroppy streak that could surface when he over-imbibed. I was also informed by one of the locals that he had formerly had an on-off relationship with a woman that lived in the town, but that this affiliation had finally ended. Apparently, he had become overzealous with her one evening when she had spurned his advances, and now had a restraining order against him. Thankfully for him, she later dropped the charges.
One Saturday evening, after living in the town for close to a year, my doorbell rang at around eleven p.m. Not expecting anyone I was surprised by the interruption. Henry had been in a fight and had asked a Samaritan from our town to drop him off at my home, hoping that I would have an antiseptic emulsion for him. He had a puffy eye, a few abrasions on his face and a cut on his lip. His shirt was also speckled with blood. I invited him in and suggested he disrobe and take a shower, before I disinfected his battle scars. He wasn’t totally drunk, but had obviously had a few.
Adhering to my request he followed me to the shower before I helped him undress. Once naked I got a look at his dick. Henry’s cock wasn’t the thickest I had seen in town, but very definitely the longest. He had an ample foreskin that hung at least two inches off the tip of his knob. I was memorised by his long snake as it swayed in tandem with his floppy balls, as he washed himself.
After showering I assisted him towelling off. There were two ugly bruises on his back that looked as if someone had put the boot in. Once done, I applied the antiseptic ointment to all his cuts, before advising him to move to the bedroom so that I could apply an anti-inflammatory cream to his back. I pulled the duvet cover off the bed and asked him to lie on his stomach. Henry groaned approvingly, as I lightly sat on his butt and began to massage his back. I took my time and really gave him a solid working-over.
After ten minutes, I lifted off him and asked him to turn onto his back, so I could check for bruises on his stomach and chest. Somewhat hesitantly he complied. When his erect knob flopped onto his stomach once he had turned, I was stunned, because Henry’s dick extended well past his belly-button. He had the most magnificent cock I had ever seen.
Sitting on his upper thighs I began to massage his torso to continued groans of approval. As I rubbed him I noticed a pool of pre-cum begin to form on his stomach. The flow of liquid from his cock was incessant, and I constantly added some of his juice to the balm that I was applying to his body.