Woah.

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A new Ty?

For months, Ty Alexander has been telling me that he’s a new man. Tired of not being taken seriously, relegated to the jobber heap, the comic relief, Ty has repeatedly dropped hints that he’s undergone a transformation. When I interviewed him at BG East this summer, there was evidence at hand. He was the only wrestler who sat for his interview shirtless, repeatedly flexing his lightly hairy pecs and smirking when he caught me staring at them. More than just the obvious muscle mass, though, there was something edgier about Ty. He’s less cocky but more confident somehow.

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So I was eager to see his recent match against the lovely little newbie Steve Mason. It had to be recorded this summer. Ty was in that same shape, with that same confidence to go with the meaty, flexing, lightly hairy pecs. They silently get down to business and immediately Ty outmuscles the tasty newbie. With sheer force of will, he presses Steve into position. He manipulates the newbie’s muscled body commandingly. He spanks his ass and crotch-rips the rookie’s legs open wide in a spladle. It’s assertive and decisive. It’s not nearly so self-congratulatory and self-absorbed as the old Ty.

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Steve’s got skills!

It’s that much more shocking when Steve outmaneuvers the upperclassman and locks down a figure-4, smothering Ty’s face in the newbie’s ass. He gets the first submission, and most shocking of all, it isn’t because Ty was showboating. It isn’t because Ty was distracted by his own beauty. It isn’t because Ty got comically cocky. It’s just because Steve earned it. There’s something more compelling and suspenseful about this match than Ty’s previous outings, not because he’s suddenly a bulldozing heel, but because giving or taking, it’s honest and raw without the glitz and strut. “Lucky,” Ty snarls, echoes of his less responsible, more petulant prior incarnation rising up defensively. “That’s not luck,” Steve smirks. “That’s skill.”

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I expect to see big things from “little” Steve Mason

I like to think of myself as a connoisseur of young vine wrestling performances. I like to swish them around in my mouth and see if I can taste what future harvests may become with time maturity and experience. I live Steve. I like his look. I like his voice. I enjoyed the opportunity to meet him briefly, mostly in passing this summer, and he stands out in a crowd. In this match, he’s the first to squeeze his opponent’s balls. He’s fierce and determined, with a no nonsense attitude that’s the flip side of the smart-ass, sexy playfulness I caught a glimpse of behind camera. He’s beautiful in a demanding way, like he insists on being seen, studied, and appraised.

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“Does that feel lucky?”

Steve submits to Ty headscissors, with a ball claw chaser, moments after scoring his first submission. “Does that feel lucky?” Ty taunts. Steve is pissed. I love that bitter edge. His ego got bruised, and hedigs into the action again with an earnestness that’s delightful. He’s also a surprisingly adept mat wrestler, and this plays out as honestly competitive. There are no fewer than 10 hot, decisive submissions traded back and forth, with the winner finishing the tally with a 6-4 advantage. But the numbers disguise the intensely erotic quality of the action.

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Really big things from Steve Mason.

Their singlets were more for seduction and show than function anyway, so there’s little wonder they get torn off. In the heat of battle, both boys can’t keep their hands off of each other’s crotches, but in Ty’s case, he also can’t keep his eyes and his lips off of the newbie’s package. Stripped to a purple thong, there’s a leviathan lurking just beneath the surface, responding as if with a mind of it’s own to Ty’s growing infatuation. Ty adds to his tally with an OTK backbreaker, sliding his hand inside and checking for stolen goods in all of that massively packed baggage.

 

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Gargantuan things from Steve Mason!

It is most definitely not your average debut when Steve slides Ty into face-to-crotch headscissors and lets that swelling, mountainous bulge do all the talking. Ty chokes on the beast, kicking and fighting, until demandingly Steve grabs the back of his opponent’s head and pulls Ty’s face pressed even tighter into his now bouncing behemoth. “Looks like you like it down there,” Steve observes objectively, noting that Ty isn’t fighting it. He’s just groaning in pleasure. Finally gasping for air, Ty taps out.

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Ty sends a message to the haters and doubters.

Lean, pretty little Steve starts getting buried under fast at this point, as Ty kicks it into a gear I never knew he had before. I’m sure it’s at least in part due to this new transformation Ty’s been telling me about. He doesn’t choke in the clutch. He outmuscles and outhustles his new plaything, with perfectly measured elements of bullying and erotic delight. Ty tells a whole new story, one built on superior skill, experience, and power.

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There are phenomenally big, pendulous, HUGE things yet to cum for Steve Mason!

But I have to think at least a little of what motivates Ty to new heights is the truly remarkable sledgehammer hanging between Steve’s legs. When Ty unleashes the beast, there’s an audible thump as the monster slaps the mat. I’m restricted from showing you pictures (sign into Arena for the photographic evidence, or buy this DVD to watch the leviathan in motion). But it should say something to regular readers when I report that I’m just a bit at a loss for words to convey the magnitude of this debut. I take back and heartily apologize for referring to him as “little” Steve, because that word simply can’t stick once his bazooka comes out to play. “Woah. Impressive,” Ty makes the understatement of the year.

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Ty tastes an honest, no shenanigans victory

Steve even manages to keep wrestling for just a bit after he’s been stripped naked, which is a feat to behold. But like I said, this is Ty’s story to tell, and once they sort out who “wins,” they make out furiously and put both guns to blazing. Indeed, this is a whole new Ty, and I’m excited to see what new ground he breaks with this newly built muscle and new found attitude. And as for all of you Best Bulge contenders, move over and make room for the most jaw dropping debut I think I’ve ever seen. No, you need to move over farther. Farther. Steve’s contender needs a whole lot of room!

Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month

So now that I’ve come up for a little air, I’m backfilling the Homerotic Wrestler of the Month titles that I missed while I was MIA. Someone has got to unseat Mason Brooks’ beautiful ass off of the throne. I have low simmering wrestling crushes on exactly 50% of the wrestlers who appeared in BG East’s September Catalog 122, but let’s be honest. One wrestler in the field of new releases strolls in as a living legend among merely magnificently hot mortals.  There’s just one choice for me when it comes to lauding September’s HWOTM, and that living legend is…

 

 

 

 

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Kid Vicious.

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KV breaks in another pretty stud in Gutbash 13.

How in the fuck has Kid Vicious not been my HWOTM before!? I mean, seriously, it defies belief.  I mean, REALLY, it seems actually, literally impossible that Kid Vicious hasn’t already been a HWOTM winner. I love his work. I’ve always loved his work. I’ve mused often about the uncanny way KV has of doing to an opponent exactly what I’m screaming at the screen to be done. He slams a hottie into an OTK backbreaker, and I scream, “grab his balls!,” and no shit, 2 seconds later, KV grabs his balls.  I scream, “suck on that bulge!,” and I kid you not, moments later KV bends forward in that OTK and wraps his lips around some hot hunks quivering bulge. KV gets me, and so it’s no wonder to me that I get so out of control excited to see him return to the ring after much too long an absence.

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KV tastes the appetizers.

The juicy piece of meat to lure KV back in front of the camera is a hot bodied pretty boy named Devon Britt-Darby. How could KV pass up sinking his teeth into this hyphenated, self-infatuated narcissist with un-fucking-believably ripped abs? Apparently they’ve already sorted out the details before they arrive at ringside. KV is the unstoppable heel who will not be resisted, and Devon has abs of steel that cannot be broken. Of course, I’ve never seen Devon before, and sure, he’s got a seductively lickable muscle body, but there isn’t half a second that I spend thinking that he has a chance in hell of withstanding KV.

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KV tenderizes the beef.

The only question I’m asking as KV beats the living fuck out of Devon’s gut is whether he will strip this newbie naked and suck out his soul before all is said and done. I love the way that KV gets amused by just how tough Devon is, how long he endures KV’s relentlessly focused brutality. That luscious KV sneer speaks volumes as Devon’s impassive face starts to crack in twinges of grimacing agony. KV loves his work in a way that makes me absolutely adore him.

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KV LOVES his job.

I won’t name names, but there are plenty of wrestlers who leave me wondering why they’re wrestling, like they’re bored or resentful of the mere fact that they’re climbing into the ring. I never question why KV wrestles. He gets off on it. He gets off on conquering another man. He gets off on taking possession of another man’s muscled body. He deeply delights in driving a cocky stud to the bring of terror and shocked self-doubt. Devon goes down that well-worn path, looking with disbelief at his own quivering, quaking, weeping muscled body and realizing that he’s been transformed into KV’s bitch.

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DB-D assumes the position.

This isn’t my favorite KV match, but it’s totally, sensationally, 100% KV magic, which elevates it to a class all its own among the new releases. I’m not allowed to post the full monty pics by agreement with BGE, but let me just assure you that yes, indeed, KV beats the living fuck out of Devon’s “unbreakable” gut. He does strip the newbie naked. He absolutely sucks out his soul and takes total possession of DB-D’s hyphenated manhood.

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Fuck… that sneer!

I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that there are plenty of people loving on this match because of Devon. I totally get that your attention may be drawn to the pretty, shiny, ripped thing whose washboard core is the titular character of this match. But I have a hard time taking my eyes off of KV’s face, his ecstasy, his crotch warming pleasure that just grows and grows as Devon’s body falls apart. It’s Devon’s gorgeous gut, but this bash is all about Kid Vicious for me, and the moment he baptizes Britt-Darby with a shower of cum from his legendarily lovely Rod, he takes sole possession of the HWOTM title for September 2017.

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Kid Vicious – Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month – September 2017

 

Still Kickin’

I thought I’d better post something before someone prematurely starts writing my obituary.  I’m still adjusting to offline changes in my life, but I’m also happily carving out stolen moments here and there to enjoy watching hot wrestling. My thanks to those who periodically check-in when you notice I’m quiet for a while. It’s always nice to be missed. And a big word of humble gratitude to man-of-my-dreams Scott Williams who not only noticed my absence, not only dropped a comment on the blog asking how I’m doing, but also let me know that he’s thinking about arranging an opportunity for me to see him wrestle in person.

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Scott Williams

Fuck, that’ll bring me back from death’s doorstep anytime.  Honestly, if you ever find me in cardiac arrest, skip the CPR and just get Scott Williams on the line letting me know when and where I can get a live show of him making Ty Alexander cry and beg. I guarantee you that’ll be an instant miracle cure.

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Scott hurting pretty boys makes life livable.

If you know me, you know I’ve got opinions piling up about the best and brightest new releases that have come out over the past couple of months. While I’m assembling my thoughts and trying to sort through a backlog of reviews, this post is mostly just to let you know I’m still kicking. And in that spirit, here are some hot, decisive kicks that make my heart beat harder.

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Dylon Roberts vs. Hawk Rodman – Bulge Battles 1
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Flash LaCash vs. Kip Sorell – Demolition 21 (Best Squash of 2016)
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Kid Karisma vs. Reese Wells – Ringwars 27
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Biff Farrell vs. Chet Chastain – Babyface Brawl 4
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Dick Rick vs. Donnie Drake – Pros in Private 11
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Rudy Cortez vs. Nick Naughton – Ringwars 14
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Lane Hartley vs. Richie Douglas – Lane’s Sinister Side

Santa, Baby

You know, of course, that Christmas is coming up. And there’s a new year soon to follow. And there’s a perfect gift out there that combines hot, gay rugby guys and a sensational teaser of my favorite homoerotic wrestler.

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Check out the Seattle Quake gay rugby team 2018 calendar. This is the perfect present for anyone into hot, athletic gay guys and superhero camp.  And, no I’m not just talking about me.  Well, okay, yes. Me. But this would scratch an itch for so many people on your list.

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And if mine comes autographed by Kid Karisma, perhaps I’ll be ready to believe that 2018 will turn this hellhole of a moment in history around after all.

Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month

Oy, just now finding a window of opportunity to write down some of my latest thoughts about my favorite topic. I’m still backfilling the Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month awards. But it’s time for someone to unseat the magnificent mountain of muscle that is Mark Muscle and take the title for my favorite wrestler in a new release in the month of August. Sometimes these choices are harder than others, and this was one of those times. But speaking of harder, at the risk of irking the other worthy contenders, I have to admit that one hot wrestling hunk made me harder than all the rest. For his new release appearance in the month of August, my new HWOTM is…

 

 

 

 

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Mason Brooks.

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The indisputable evidence that Christian Taylor checked out Mason’s goods.

While I’ve long been infatuated with Mason, somehow he has never before taken the HWOTM title. His opponent in Bedroom Brawls 3, Christian Taylor, is a member of the rarified ranks of HWOTM 3-peats.  But despite my open adoration of Mason’s nipples, my longstanding fantasy to pound one out across his luscious, thick pecs, and my deep appreciation for his wickedly sharp, intellectual approach to the carnal delights of homoerotic wrestling, this “thinking man’s wrestler” has failed to wrestle his way to the top of my monthly tallies. That oversight is officially and decisively over, because Bedroom Brawls 3 was the hottest thing I’ve seen in a long time, and Mason is unquestionably the leading man, despite facing off with Hollywood handsome Christian.

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Mason dials up the sexy factor in Bedroom Brawls 3

The story is novel and enchantingly entertaining. Mason and Christian are bunking side by side in the mat room during one of those insanely busy week’s of BG East recording, where dozens of hot hunks are stacked like wood, awaiting the myriad delights of squaring off against one fine opponent after another. In the wee hours of the morning, Christian rouses first, looks at the sleeping beauty next to him, and does what any one of us would want to do: he coyly pulls up the cover to take a peak at the beautifully muscled stud still unconscious next to him. Mason comes-to trying to decide if getting exploited by the likes of BG East’s champion babyface kisser really just happened, or if it was one of those magnificently sexy dreams you don’t ever want to wake up from.

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Mason makes my mouth water

Like Christian, I often find myself eyefucking Mason’s gorgeous body. Mason is no clone. He defies easy classification. He’s not a bodybuilder, but he’s sweetly, thickly muscled. He’s nobody’s twink, but he’s certainly lean and lovely with a leaning-toward-babyface beauty. Although I haven’t had an opportunity to post about it yet, I immensely enjoyed the opportunity to meet Mason when I visited BG East this summer, and in the midst of my interview with him (still to be published), I felt the persistent urge to palm his broad, powerful, aesthetic pecs. We’ve seen Mason go full monty in past matches, and so I have no problem at all reading Christian’s mind as he pulls the cover down and hungrily examines the tasty bulge in the front of Mason’s briefs, wondering if he might catch a tantalizing glimpse of early morning wood. So many of Christian’s matches revolve around the gravitational pull that Christian has on countless BG East wrestlers chasing this Prince Charming, but there’s a super sexy authenticity about the erotic gaze Christian turns on sampling the goods (greats) that Mason puts on the table.

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Reciprocity

There’s a clear fun-and-games vibe about the action as Mason confronts Christian for trying to take advantage of him as he slept. Mason makes it clear that he’s abundantly ready to return the amorous attention, but coyly, Christian tries to deny what the camera objectively documented. “Just be a man and own up to it,” Mason demands. “You were totally checking me out.”  Perhaps because Christian is so often the object of lustful attention, he’s apparently embarrassed and out and out lies. “No one’s looking at your dick, Mason.” But of course Christian was looking at his dick. And I’m looking as his dick. And you’re looking at his dick. And tickled both by the attention and Christian’s embarrassment, Mason insists that no one is going back to sleep until Christian confesses that he just couldn’t keep his hands and eyes off of Brooks’ beef.

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Mason shines when he’s in charge

So it starts playful. Christian doesn’t initially put up a lot of fight, still feigning as if it was Mason who rudely interrupted his beauty sleep. Early going I get a sense that at any moment these two may just abandon the battle for physical domination and just start fucking their pent up morning energies away. I wouldn’t have blamed them. The sexual tension is perfectly balanced and sensationally thick. But in addition to both being sexy as fuck, Mason and Christian have also abundantly demonstrated that they are fierce, competitive, accomplished wrestlers. So the wrestling fan in me is turned on that much harder as they veer right past giving in too soon to their mutual attraction and, instead, start seriously punishing one another.

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Christian starts to question which is more humiliating, confessing that he was checking Mason out, or weeping like a baby in Mason’s brutal holds.

Playing it coy digs Christian a deep hole that Mason is eager to fill. As Christian claims that he just wants to go back to sleep (liar), Mason twist ties him into knots. It’s intense and quickly sweat soaked as they scramble atop and often get tied up in the bedding. Mason keeps twisting, keeps prying, driving his gasping, whimpering increasingly humiliated hottie opponent to the edge of being forced to admit the obvious, that he (on behalf of all of us) wants to see a lot more of Mason. With studied skill and patience and more than an able hand with the driving whip, Mason demonstrates that he can dish out a whole lot more humiliation than just having Christian confess his transgressions. Finally Christian grudgingly barks it out. “Yes! I was checking you out,” Christian snarls. “I was checking out the goods!” The sweetly satisfied smile across Mason’s face alone could get me off. “I hope it was good for you,” he coos, softening up his grip and starting to stroke Christian’s sweat soaked washboard. “‘Cause it’s good for me.”

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Babyface satisfaction

Before I inadvertently convince you that this is a squash, let me assure you that the battle is far from over, and Christian is abundantly equipped to hold his own and grab hold of Mason’s as well. What starts as a fun-and-games romp, evolving into an ego punishing confession-submission, charges headlong into a back and forth battle as Christian seeks, and ultimately gets, some dominating satisfaction of his own. As erotically oriented as he is to Mason’s body, he’s not shy at all about abusing it with abandon. Mason is tough as fuck, of course. We know that. So there’s that much more pleasure at watching Christian insist on cranking on holds past the point of Mason’s tolerances, twist that much farther, squeeze that much harder, demanding some face-saving respect after having the stuffing and dignity wrung out of him earlier. Mason is certainly not the first opponent to be forcefully convinced that Christian is far from just a pretty face and rocking body.

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Mason: “Are you going to get out of that, or are you just enjoying it too much?” Christian: “I’m conflicted”

Despite Christian more than holding his own in the middle third of this tussle, Mason makes this match all his own as he controls the pace in the backstretch. It’s a game of libido chicken. Both clearly turned on to the point of distraction, they repeatedly start to melt into each other. Famished kissing breaks out. Muscles go slack as blood is redirected to their crotches. Just when one gagging stud is ready to get down to business, the other exploits his open lust to lock down ever more vulnerable holds, ever more brutal punishment. Christian plays this game well, but Mason is the master of it. Time and again, Mason savors the moment of watching Christian’s gasping lust twisted into bitter frustration as Mason denies his amorous advances and laughs at his agony twisted, handsome face. Christian’s cock doesn’t know which way to turn, but it’s doing all of his thinking as Mason plays him like a pipe organ, making him sing, making him groan, making him whine to get his lips on that tasty morsel that he woke with a craving for.

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A taste of what’s to cum.

Is it too early for us to discuss the Liplock of the Year award? These two suck on their mutual excitement for each other with a passion that I simply can’t believe is put on for the cameras. The more Mason takes the reins, the more he peppers his punishment of Christian with tantalizing, teasing tastes of what is obviously motivating both of them.

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Mason presses his point

It continues to careen at breakneck speed into that blurred boundary between erotic wrestling and rough fucking. Christian takes the brunt end of the stick, but he’s not fooling anyone. He wanted exactly this all along. He wanted every inch of his beautiful body to feel every inch of Mason’s. He wanted Mason’s morning wood in his face, pressed between his cheeks, grinding relentlessly into him.

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Explosive chemistry: 101

I don’t know why Christian didn’t just come out and admit it from the start. But I’m thrilled that he didn’t. I’m ecstatic that he played coy, forcing Mason to force him to admit to the obvious magnetic attraction between them. Mason is never better than when he’s taking control, owning an opponent, breaking through all defenses and dictating the sensationally sexy terms of surrender. And in this case, there are no winners or losers, just two insanely sexy hunks, soaked in sweat, their sexual cravings completely exposed, crawling back under the covers to do anything but sleep.

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Back under the covers after all

Fuck, I loved this match. I’m jealous of both wrestlers. But I’m mostly captivated with Mason for seizing the opportunity (and every last inch of Christian Taylor) to pound that sexy alarm clock into completely dominated submission.  This is easily and art house edition of classic BG East wrestling. It’s erotic-forward. It’s wrestling forward. And it compels me to finally award a belated recognition to Mason Brooks as HWOTM.

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Mason Brook: August 2017 Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month

“It’s like an orgy all day long”

I admit to having quickly developed an infatuation with Chase Addams. I’ve indulged that infatuation with conducting now three interviews, all for a rookie wrestler with just that same number of published matches. There are many elements to what intrigues and seduces me about the Charming One. Of course there’s the hot, lean body and those oft-mentioned nipples. You don’t have to scratch beneath my surface far to know that any openly gay wrestler who seriously loves professional wrestling will hold my attention. He wrestles an excellent story, too. But there’s still more that keeps me coming back for more. So little wonder, given the opportunity, I sat Charming Chase down at BG East during my visit this summer and put him on the record and on audio this time.

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Chase Addams cocks an eye at his #1 blogger fan

In the first portion of our conversation, I learned a little about what a typical day of wrestling for BG East looks like for Chase. He discussed that breakout moment when wrestlers he’s crushed on from afar have returned the respect and interest. And Chase and I discuss which newbie BG East wrestler he and I (and apparently a broad swath of fans) currently hate on most.

Chase Addams Interview – Part 1:

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Chase struts his stuff in Bard-approved gear

As our conversation continued, Chase offered his take on what it’s like to be surrounded by smoking hot gay wrestlers roaming the grounds of BG East all at one time (from which the title of this post comes). And Chase gives some insight into what it’s like to go all out to pry an opponent apart piece by piece, and then find yourself hanging out between the matches at a later date.

Chase Addams Interview – Part 2:

Finally, Chase gave me a glimpse into the headspace it takes for him to prepare for a match. We speculate on which merit badges you can earn at a taping as we explore an extended metaphor of BG East to summer camp. We conclude with attempting to speculate how it could be possible to oversell the promise, potential, and pure wrestling entertainment value of Chase Addams.

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Chase: “I’ve got to find a new way to make this innovative and to make this interesting.”
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Chase: “Ace Aaronshe’s going to be there!? And he wants to wrestle me!?”
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Chase: My first match “was an overnight viral thing.”
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Chase: [On seeing Charlie Evans after they wrestled in Ring Rookies 5] “I think I could have broken his neck and come back and he’d still make eye contact with me. He’s just that kind of person.”
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Chase: “It’s like an orgy all day long.”
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Chase: “I’m not high on my own hype. I just know what I’m capable of. I’m just that good.”

Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month

It’s been a crazy busy summer on all counts.  My day job kicked my ass. I’m still kept up late at night reliving the magnificent thrill of my day cavorting behind the scenes at BG East. Two weeks of a relaxing, if smokey vacation, and I’m back to real life, and it’s settling down.  As I look at the dregs at the bottom of the summer 2017 cup, I notice a few housekeeping tasks I need to catch up on.  For example, Kid Karisma has had his world class, gorgeous ass sitting on the Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month throne well past his expiration date. For today, I’m turning the time machine back to July to survey the new releases that turned my crank that month, in order to retroactively anoint my July HWOTM.  With apologies for my tardiness, let me announce now that the muscled ass cheeks to replace Kid K’s as the newest addition to the HWOTM ranks is…

 

 

 

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Mark Muscle.

My detailed review of Mark’s work in Fantasy Heels 10 explains what I enjoyed so much. I’ve wanted to see Mark take the title for a while, and he’s even been the opponent to put others over and into the HWOTM circle. But in FH10, Mark broke through with a little more power, more charisma, and more overt fan-love than I’ve seen from him before. And just like he pounded daddy’s little rich boy Damien Rush, he handily beat off any other serious competitors for the HWOTM title for July.

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I’m the first to admit that I can be (often) pretty dense. Across companies, I’m often a little confused about the essential ingredients to major series and sub-genres. So I may be off base, but my read of MDW’s Fantasy Heel series is that it pushes wrestlers who are otherwise not, at heart, heels into that role. So there’s a nod to not expecting to see again anytime soon, perhaps, big Mark Muscle this nasty, this dominating, this overwhelmingly in control. Which makes me savor Fantasy Heels 10 that much more, because I fucking love watching Mark mobilize all 6’4″ and 250 pounds of potently concentrated muscle to slap down a whiny man-child like Damien Rush.

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There’s a fresh sexiness to what Mark puts on the table in FH10. He frequently pauses after solidly buttoning Damien up, locking him down and then seductively turning and looking straight into the camera. It isn’t a self-conscious look. It isn’t awkward or uncertain. The timing of Mark’s cool, steady gaze gives me the impression that he knows just when I’m grabbing my cock with excitement. He knows that what he’s doing to Damien is driving me right to the edge, and right there, when I’m at that edge, Mark turns to the camera and looks right at me.

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I’m more than happy to see Mark Muscle finally realize his erotic wrestling potential. Despite the possible “one-off” aspect of this Fantasy Heel match, I’m hoping that we see much, much more of him crushing mere mortals and watching us watching him. A hunk this massive, this gorgeous, and this game who can convince us that he’s pleased and proud to get us off could corner the muscle heel market in the homoerotic wrestling universe. And he most definitely wins my enthusiastic endorsement as the July 2017 Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month.

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Mark Muscle – July 2017 Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month