Max Mabry Bottoms For Cody Arizona

This week on Chaosmen, the office dynamics at the local university are heating up to a boiling point. Max Mabry, the head assistant, is the object of professor Cody Arizona’s carnal desires, and let’s just say, Cody’s not the type to beat around the bush – or should I say, the filing cabinet?

After hours, when the halls are quiet and the only sound is the hum of fluorescent lights, Cody’s got Max trapped in the most delicious way. Picture this: Max, with his ass backed up against that solid oak desk, feels the rush of adrenaline as Cody’s hand slams against the metal filing cabinet next to his head. The office is theirs, and Cody’s not wasting a second.

With a swift move that screams ‘I know what I want’, Cody’s got Max’s pants and boxers around his ankles before you can say “inappropriate workplace behavior.” The sound of that belt buckle clinking on the tile floor is like a starter pistol, and Cody’s off to the races, dropping to his knees like he’s praying at the altar of Max’s rock-hard cock. He sucks like a Dyson on steroids, hollowing his cheeks and working Max into a frenzy until his legs are quivering like Jell-O.

But why waste time on foreplay when you can get right to the main event? Cody spins Max around, bending him over that desk like a man on a mission. Papers fly like confetti at an orgy as Max’s shirt gets torn open, exposing his back, which is about to get a whole lot more attention. Cody spits for lube – because who needs prep when you’re this hungry? – and plunges two fingers in, priming Max for what’s to come.

Cody’s not one for formalities, so it’s a raw, skin-on-skin, no-condom kind of night. He drives into Max with the intensity of a man possessed, the desk beneath them creaking and groaning under the sheer force of their passion. Max is grunting, his fingers clawing at the desk, leaving half-moon marks in the varnish as Cody pounds into him with relentless, jackhammering strokes that are gonna leave some serious marks – the kind that’ll have Max wincing every time he sits down at tomorrow’s staff meeting.

Cody’s not just fucking Max; he’s claiming him, yanking his head back by the hair and driving in deeper, harder, until he’s coming with a feral snarl that echoes off the walls. And just like that, it’s over. Cody tucks himself away, leaving Max a panting, sticky mess on top of the inkjet reports, his own release mingling with the ink on the university letterhead.

As Cody unlocks the door and slips out without a second glance, Max is left to piece himself together. But as he straightens his torn clothes and takes a shaky breath, he knows this wasn’t a one-time thing. Tomorrow, he’ll be back at this desk, and so will Cody. Because some flames, once ignited, just can’t be extinguished.