Is it normal that twenty strong men are needed?

On a cool autumn day, Principle Blackwell entered the building, filed past the front office, and took his seat in the back. He was a small, thin man, with gray eyes and mousey brown hair with only the slightest shock of gray showing through. Having recently required students and faculty to wear masks in order to halt the spread of Covid-19, he surveyed his surroundings and, having found himself completely alone, removed his mask, revealing underneath a defined, though somewhat delicate jawline, as he reached for his coffee and took a sip. Extremists had recently been making threats of invading the sanctity of the building with the help of 20 strong men, and Principle Blackwell couldn't help but laugh privately to himself at their bravado. Surely, these were all idle threats and, as soon as those making them were to encounter the least little pushback, they would cowardly retreat back to their homes and wait for the next new thing to get angry at. Principle Blackwell stared out the window briefly and thought he could make out something on the horizon, before his receptionist alerted him that he had a visitor. "Send them in," he said, quickly affixing the mask to his face as he waited for the arrival of his guest.

What Principle Blackwell saw before him left him in awe - he thought he could make out the shape of a man, his muscles bulging through a tightly-fitted leather shirt while his manhood stood erect through a codpiece attached to a pair of chaps. "What is the meaning of this?!" Principle Blackwell screeched, as the hulking intruder stepped towards him, looming over him with hungry eyes that peered over a bandana that covered his face. With his meaty, prehensile hand he grasped Principle Blackwell by the collar and dragged him over to the window, pressing his face firmly into it. Principle Blackwell could see clearly the shapes of strong men (he thought he could count 20 or so) advancing towards the school, their hulking physiques charging forth with such conviction and virility that it seemed like the very walls of his office would collapse like so much cardboard if one of them were to collide with it. He began to sweat, and nearly fainted from disbelief until he felt the force of five fingers grasp at his admittedly shapely buttocks. "Who are you?!" P. Blackwell demanded, flailing about as if it would help him escape the arms of this man-beast until one of his delicate hands managed to swipe at the bandana that covered the intruder's face.

It took P. Blackwell a moment or two to register it, but it was unmistakable; it was the face of Gerard, his college roommate. He and Gerard had experimented a time or two in their younger days, but since then, P. Blackwell had gone straight, leaving Gerard with little recourse but to seek intercourse from other men. "Long time, no see, Thomas." said Gerard, his girthy cock aiming at P. Blackwell like a missile. "I see that ass of yours is just as cute as I remember it."

"What is the meaning of this?! I'm married! I have children! I was just confused and those were all just experiments!" P. Blackwell said, obviously flustered from the comment about his ass. True, he was married, and he did have two children by his wife that he loved dearly, but he couldn't help but feel like something was missing. His wife had not fucked him in the 7 years since the birth of their second child, and while pornography had provided a serviceable outlet for his sexual urges in years past, he still felt the need sometimes for human connection, which led him to having cybersex with strangers he met online. One of them, "QueenBigCockLover," whom he met in a chatroom was always eager to get him off, and seemed to understand him in ways that his wife never could. He delighted in the presence of this sexy internet stranger, though he had never personally seen them. That was, until Gerard produced a phone and, after asking P. Blackwell for the wi-fi passcode, signed on to the very same site that P. Blackwell and QueenBigCockLover had used to exchange messages in the past. Blackwell couldn't believe his eyes - "QueenBigCockLover" was none other than Gerard!

"I would've preferred a more intimate place for our reunion, but fucking the school principle on is desk is one of my top-ten sexual fantasies that I haven't yet experienced," said Gerard, who stood stroking Blackwell with his finger until he located his nipple and pinched it. Flustered (and, though he tried to push it out of his mind, aroused), P. Blackwell pushed Gerard back and dashed for the door, only to be seized by a pair of brawny arms and swept off of his feet. Just then, he could hear what sounded like a bulldozer charging it's way into the building. All at once, twenty strong men charged into the front office and filed into Blackwell's private quarters.

Blackwell surveyed the crowd of men that stood before him, making out various shapes of healthy, virile men bedecked with disparate styles of outlandish costuming, though none of which truly interested him as thoroughly was what Gerard was wearing (he tried to deny it to himself once again when he caught himself having these thoughts). Just then, the twenty strong men each took a deep breath, and began to sing in unison:

"We're twenty strong men, and we're here to say/There's noting wrong with being gay!/It's not your fault you turned out that way/So we're coming here to save the day!/We've got huge dicks and we're dressed like sluts!/Neckerchiefs and leather on our butts!/We don't need why's, how's, where or what's/We're coming here bust some nuts!"

Blackwell was in shock, and couldn't produce a single word regarding what he had just witnessed, let alone process it. Just then, he felt a cool wind on his bare ass and noticed that his line of vision was parallel to the floor, his torso stretched out over his desk. He could feel it; Gerard's throbbing manhood had fully engorged his anus, Gerard thrusting gently at first so as to acclimatize Blackwell to the sheer size of it, and gauge his response. Blackwell became aroused, and could feel the excitement reverberating throughout his entire body as Gerard's beefy cock made contact with his prostate. As the pounding became more and more intense, the array of sensations continued to build up in Blackwell until his being was so overrun with ecstasy that it had to be released through the appropriate channel; Blackwell's penis. He produced an orgasm so singularly shattering that his entire desk was drenched in semen - never had he experienced such pleasure with anyone, including his wife. The experience was so overwhelming, he briefly felt his soul being transported to another plane of existence.

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