I’ve finally had an opportunity to put some writing time in on the next Secretarial Pool audition match. You all have been both patient and gracious with my excuses for not posting in a more timely fashion. The primary excuse is that the work I do to pay the bills has swamped me lately. This blog and my wrestling fiction are entirely a labor of love (note, no ads, no donations accepted, just me and you having some fun considering what turns us on). Fortunately, I’m having a little more time for labors of love very recently. So I’ve been back to being immersed in considering every angle, muscle, and movement of the next two competitors for the Secretarial Pool audition: Sean Sullivan and Rafael Verga.
In the non-fiction world (if you can call the world of male modeling non-fiction), Sean Sullivan has been photographed both in huge, muscleboy fitness mode and in a somewhat slimmer, more artsy fashion mode. He’s worship-worthy in any case, particularly with those shiny gray eyes and his locks left long and curly. For the purposes of the Producer’s Ring, though, Sean is in his beefiest condition, massively muscled, pounding pecs, vascular cobra arms and traps nearly up to his ears.
Sean sees this competition as coming down to him and fellow fitness musclegod, Nick Auger. The rest of the fashion boys are just speed bumps in his way to the inevitable clash of the titans. Rafael, on the other hand, is determined to be no one’s speed bump.
A particular full frontal of Rafael has set my imagination on fire in the last couple of days, and I’m 100% certain that it will show up in the text of the match itself. Where Sean’s dominating strength is self-evident, Rafael’s capoeira could show up as the wild card in this match. Where do rhythm, balance and speed stack up against overwhelming power?
The more time I spend with Rafael (in my imagination), the more I’m struck by how ridiculously handsome he is. I don’t count either of these boys as pretty, and in particular I find Rafael’s face almost hyper-masculine.
I think that these are two hunks accustomed to being on top, in the saddle, and taking charge. Rafael, no less than Sean, is certain of the inevitability of his victory. Unlike the beginning of Nick and Jakub’s match, when you could sort of taste Jakub’s desperation in the air, both Rafael and Sean are unfailingly confident that they have something up their sleeves (and down their pants) that simply cannot be denied. Unstoppable force… immovable object… the only certainty here is that someone will be tamed, forced to submit, and if things are heading where I think they’re heading, surrendering in mind, body, and spirit.