Month: July 2010

Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month

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In my continuing efforts to spread the love, I’ve decided to highlight a “homoerotic wrestler of the month.” While I’ll continue to track the tugs and pulls at my heart for reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler (pornboy and nonpornboy divisions), I’d also like to promote the efforts month in and month out of the hard-working wrestlers and production companies fueling our fantasies. My hope is to give a shout out to a homoerotic wrestler who catches my eye, starring in a freshly released production in the previous calendar month. Now this “-of-the-month” may end up favoring specific wrestling companies that put out new material more frequently than others. Thems-the-breaks. Pornboys and nonpornboys are eligible, and any company that I can keep up with will be in the running each month, as long as they’re putting out new material.

My inaugural homoerotic wrestler of the month for his original performance released over the past month is Naked Kombat’s Trent Diesel: 6’0, 185 pounds, blond, with hot, classy ink, and definitely in the pornboy division (as evidenced by his name).
Trent earns the title as homoerotic wrestler of the month for his July 7th release on the NK site, in which it takes two opponents to manage to last just one match against Trent. In his first-first round against veteran Patrick Rouge, Trent lowers the boom and tweaks Patrick’s neck enough to send him packing.
Stuck with an abbreviated forfeit, NK found Alex Slater to show up another day and pick up the action against Trent. Thing is, Trent spanked Alex’ ass up and down, forward and backwards, coming and going, so much so that Alex could only manage 3 rather than the standard 4 rounds against Trent. Thus, this release required two wrestlers to go the full 4 rounds with my homoerotic wrestler of the month.
Needless to say, Trent comes out on top against Alex as well. I like Trent’s look. His face is handsome. His tats are gorgeous. His body is fantastic and fit. There’s just something about his legs that push me over the top, particularly when naked and squeezing his opponent between them. Trent’s record is 2-0 on NK, and with a few more appearances on the same trajectory as his first two, Trent could definitely be a contender to knock Mitch Colby out of his #1 Contender spot for my running favorite homoerotic wrestler pornboy. With the way he’s dispatched his first three challengers, I hope NK doesn’t run out of competitors willing to take a shot at him!

Powerful Luck

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I’m happy that my writer’s block seems to have been unblocked lately. My commitment to pick away at the Secretarial Pool auditions regularly until they’re done is paying off. Happily, I’ve just posted he last semi-final match, pitting the unlikely pair of fitness muscle giant Nick Auger against doe-eyed underwear model, mop-headed Ellis McCreadie.
Some of you may remember way, way back when the votes were counted for the Secretarial Pool applicants, that Ellis got a pass into the elite eight without going up for a vote. It seems that the other competitors in the competition didn’t take kindly to such favoritism, and they’ve all been gunning to beat out of Ellis the secret to how he got a direct invitation while everyone else had to face the somewhat humiliating process of vying for popular votes.
Nick makes this job number one as he steps into the rec room with Ellis. Ellis has a string of remarkable, dumb luck behind him, propelling him a breath away from being one of the finalists. Nick is one big, big (big) boy who was overwhelmingly the fan favorite in voting, just as he’s been pretty physically overwhelming in the competition thus far. Dumb luck pitted against overwhelming muscle makes for the story in the new match in my wrestling fiction.


Jared Prudoff can’t wait to see who steps out of the rec room and into the final round with him.

Hard To Beat

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I’m not a subtle person. By and large, I tend to say what’s on my mind. So when I realize that I have no more then two postings featuring Daniel Craig in the year that I’ve been blogging about beautiful men that turn me on, I realize something’s gone terribly wrong. Without a doubt, Daniel Craig is on my mind much, much more often than that. In fact, I’d have to say that I think he’s just about my favorite gorgeous movie actor on screen these days. Why it is this is only the third time for me to mention him here is beyond me.
The specific occasion for his mention here is that apparently he got the call to star as Michael Blomqvist in the Hollywood rendition of The Girl with the Dragon Tatoo. This makes me happy on so many different counts. For one, anything that gets Daniel’s baby-blues and pouty lower-lip screen time works for me. For another, as someone who enjoyed the book, I know that Blomqvist has a lot of sex in the book, offering an abundance of opportunities for Hollywood to show off Daniel’s rocking body. For still another reason, I have a soft spot for all things Swedish.
The whole situation begs the question, though, as to why cast Daniel Craig as a Swedish media critic journalist. Yet again, a thoroughly Swedish movie character gets tossed to a non-Swede. My Swedish friends will likely have bitter words to say about this, though I haven’t talked with them yet. In this particular case, I’m not sure I’ll really have all that much sympathy for them. It’s Daniel Craig, for God’s sake! He’s a blue-eyed, blond stud puppy. Despite being a tad short among the Norse giants, Daniel would blend in on the streets of Stockholm nicely, I’d have to imagine. And I don’t think there’s any question as to why Daniel would want the part. It’s a good story. It’s continued to rage across book clubs for the past several years. And, without giving away too much for those who haven’t read it, I think he’ll have an opportunity to bring us all to our knees again, similarly to his tie-me-up-and-beat-my-balls scene from Casino Royale (ahhh, good times).
And speaking of Daniel naked, sweaty, and bruised, all this also brings to mind one of the many loose ends in my celebrity wrestling fiction. It’s not that I endeavor to tie up all loose ends, by any means. Keeping ends loose keeps me exercising my imagination and writing more. But still, Daniel in the news reminds me that he’s part of an old storyline that’s still unresolved. One of the very first matches I wrote pitted Daniel against Christian Bale. With an axe to grind, Daniel humiliated Christian by grinding his cock into his face as Daniel did naked push ups over top of him (among other humiliations). Christian has been determined to earn a rematch, once he’s taken care of some work assignments that Eli Brody has handed him. Since then, Christian’s star has been on the rise, raising the possibility that when the two finally meet again, Daniel may not be able to manhandle him quite as easily as he did the first time.

Who knows. Perhaps there may be some Swedish hunks who’ll be demanding to defend their national honor against the would-be Michael Blomqvist, as well. A word to all comers, though. In my imagination, this blue-eyed, blond haired, pouty lipped, pec-tacular muscleboy is hard to beat.

The Gasp Heard Round the World

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I could hear gay men across the country gasp at precisely the same moment I did, when I realized that the gorgeous naked ass unexpectedly running across my widescreen television was Joe Manganiello in his first (of hopefully many) bare-assed appearance on True Blood last Sunday. Thank all the gods there are to thank for high definition.
Seconds later, I swear I could hear the cap heads (bless them) across the internet clicking their mouses frantically freeze framing every fantastic fraction of seconds that this 6’5″ mountain of muscled deliciousness appeared sans clothes. Clearly I’m as desperate for more of this man as the next gay fanatic. I’ll take a little blur here and there. Just show me that excellent pair of glutes pumping!
And again!
And again!….. Damn, I need to take a break for a minute and free up the use of my hands.
In the mean time, take a gander at the stunning delights of a fully clothed Joe appearing in a Joe sandwich beside his two costars. I’m hungry for a Joe sandwich of my own. Look at the cleavage in that skin tight t-shirt! This man is getting promoted to the head of the line in my wrestling fantasies.

On Bended Knee

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I’m not sure why, but I haven’t really taken a taste of BG proboy Dick Rick. He looks hot. He sweats nicely. His ass looks awfully sweet in tight briefs. But I haven’t seriously sampled the goods there yet.
That’s probably why it took me a little while to place a familiar face I saw in a national jewelry store commercial recently. The first time I saw it, the hot, muscled hunk proposing to his girlfriend as they wash the car caught my eye. Nice looking hottie, I thought. I wouldn’t grouse like a nasty bitch just because he bought the ring at “Ritzy Jewelers,” if he offered to make an honest man out of me. The second time I saw the commercial, I thought to myself, not only is he hot, he’s vaguely familiar. The glimpse of some awesome six pack abs underneath his wet t-shirt at the end of the commercial triggered something. That face. Those abs. Where have I seen this guy?
I think it was the third time I saw it, when he sweeps his girlfriend up in his thick arms in a bearhug, that it dawned on me. Look at that bearhug… Hey! That’s Dick Rick! That’s fantastic!


Dick is pitched just right for this low budget commercial. He sells a fast and silly premise with zero dialogue and an annoying co-star (I know I’m projecting, and I’m fine with that). Soaking him down at the end of the commercial so that we all get hint of those thick, round pecs and sliced up abs is genius marketing. First and foremost a pro, Dick sells.

Still, he’s wasted on hocking engagement rings. I seriously wish him nothing but outstanding commercial success, but I’d much prefer to see him selling a savage boot heel planted into my top contender for the title of my favorite homoerotic wrestler, non-pornboy division, Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you).
I like seeing the performers in the homoerotic ranks of professional wrestling out and about in the mainstream world. There’s something even sexier about the image of a beautiful hunk who sells engagement rings to happy couples by day and climbs into the ring and dishes out hunk-destroying punishment by night. Still, I can think of a lot better reasons to see this man down on one knee than a commercial for engagement rings.

Not Alone

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These images by photographer Joe Oppedisano have reminded me of comments I’ve heard from several readers who tell me that reading this blog and others like it have helped them recognize, for the first time, that there are others who are turned on by wrestling. Depending on the circumstances of where you grow up, just coming to terms with being attracted to the same sex can make one wonder, “Am I the only one.” If no one talks about it, acknowledges it, or normalizes it, it’s no wonder that so many of us experience significant periods of our lives as a struggle to figure out if what we feel indicates that there’s something wrong with us.
As for me, at this point in my life, I’m feeling more and more certainty that not only is it a normal part of the diversity of human sexuality to be attracted to the same sex, but it’s also remarkably common to find the image of male wrestlers centered in the eroticized gaze.
Sexuality and physical competition are closely paired in many species. In the classic heterosexual formulation, the young, virile bucks start the mating season by locking horns, butting heads, sparring, or competing for who’s bigger and more intimidating. As the heterosexual logic goes, the fighter who comes out on top proves himself to be of better breeding stock. His offspring will inherit more hearty genetic material. And he, therefore, lays claim to his choice of the female (or females) with which to mate.


Of course, more and more we learn that homosexuality, and same-sex mating and pairings are much more common across many species than the heterosexual version of evolution would suggest. And the story of young, virile men battling with one another is both age old and intimately tied to erotic arts, sexual prowess, and physical attraction. And clearly, mainstream fight-sport is pitched not for female eyes at all. MMA, boxing, wrestling, frat house grappling… these are not packaged and pitched for women to consume. It’s not a female audience that makes televised fight-sport profitable. These competitions are between men, managed by men, for male eyes to hungrily witness.

I wouldn’t suggest that all men who treat a UFC pay-per view as must-see television are raging ‘mos. But I certainly don’t buy the argument that the physical excitement, passionate intensity, and visceral delight that so many men take from following the UFC, or boxing, or pro-wrestling, or their frat brothers scrapping in the chapter house, or the furious young punks throwing down behind the gym after school is somehow an intellectual pursuit divorced from erotic pleasure. Viewers aren’t engaged on a simply cerebral level, no matter how exclusively they sleep with women. They care because watching young, fit, fierce men battle single-handedly for physical domination is titillating. They’re hearts beat faster. Faces grow flushed. Lungs automatically pump faster. Adrenalin is released at the sight of the hard bodies going head-to-head. And men of all stripes find themselves physically reacting, aroused at the sight of young bodies locked in battle for domination, with a physical, climactic thrill to see one competitor decisively triumph, leaving his challenger entirely, physically at his mercy.


You and I aren’t at the far margins of human sexuality. Straight men may not actually have sexual fantasies about wrestling competitions between hard-bodied men (and then again, a lot of them probably do). But the physical arousal to witness beautiful male bodies in body-on-body competition is hardly some unexplained, bizarrely fringe, freakishly abnormal kink.
Perhaps straight men don’t actually orgasm to the delights of wrestling. Perhaps a lot of gay men don’t place wrestling at the center of their erotic fantasies. But for those of us who have a passion for the homoeroticism of wrestling, I certainly don’t believe that we are at all far removed from what is at the heart of the human condition and masculinities that cross many cultures. The heterosexual version of reality will continue to expend a lot of energy attempting to narrowly define normality to protect the privileges that hetero-normativity has long provided. But let’s face it: hard, beautiful young men squeezing and tossing and pressing their muscled bodies against one another to settle who’s dominant is hot. You and I just appreciate it a little more explicitly than most.

And Then There Were Three

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Making progress on my wrestling fiction, I’ve posted the first semi-final match in the Producer’s Ring Secretarial Pool auditions. It pits first round stand-outs Jared Prudoff and Rafael Verga in a balls out, back and forth battle to the bitter end.

As I’ve worked my way deeper into this tournament, I’m finding myself having trouble saying goodbye to the inevitable losers who have to fall by the wayside. Choosing between Jared and Rafael to survive in my wrestling fiction world, for example, is a painful pill to swallow.
In the end, there are no ties in the Producer’s Ring, and one beautiful man inevitably comes out on top, though in this case someone also manages to cum out on the bottom. In the reality of the Producer’s Ring, the final decision of who will be victorious and claim a job with Brody Productions will have happened by the end of the day.
In our reality, it’ll probably take me another week or two to finish off the last two matches, though happily, both are already well under way. Hopefully they’ll be worth the wait.

Hurt So Good

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Being the egocentric narcissist I am, I assume everyone must agree with me that Rusty Stevens is homoerotic wrestling pornboy #1. When comments to the contrary pop up, such as some comments slighting Rusty’s wrestling skills, I’m momentarily emotionally gobsmacked.

As I sit with the paradox of anyone with a bad thing to say about my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy, the truth slowly sinks through my initial defensiveness. Of course there will be people who completely disagree with my estimation of the wonders and joys of Rusty. The great thing about tastes is that they vary. The skills that I value most may not be at all what turns the crank or sells the goods to the kinkster sitting (virtually) next to me.

Rather than debate the points and try to force a concession out of those who disagree with me (as hot as that sounds), I’ll just reiterate why it is that Rusty has a vice-like grip on my #1 homoerotic wrestling pornboy ranking (and my cock).
First of all, Rusty is a beautiful man. While that is far from sufficient, it’s essential to turn my crank. We may quibble about beauty. You may like them hairier or beefier or twinkier or darker-skinned or taller or shorter or more muscular or less muscular… That’s all fine with me. For what inspires me to pull out my wallet and contribute to the homoerotic wrestling industry, Rusty is an entirely gorgeous man. He takes a hot picture, which is probably more of a skill than most of us would give credit. He moves even sexier. He preens and struts and poses fantastically, which speaks of an erotic, self-possessed, cocky-son-‘a-bitch hotness that might come naturally, but I suspect bespeaks of a highly skilled performer.
Regarding Rusty’s wrestling skills in particular, I find him quite accomplished. I’ve seen my share of flat-footed, thick-headed, slow-as-sloths and entirely unimaginative performers step onto the mats and into the ring. Rusty is hardly someone who makes his opponents sell for two. On NakedKombat, he boasts some muay thai and jiujitsu training, which could be 100% bullshit, but I think he shows a focus and command of human joints and the ways in which they don’t bend that makes me buy that he’s got at least some passing experience in grappling. A serious MMA boy is hardly the skill set required to turn my crank, though. The skills that work for me, and Rusty is most certainly working for me, include the ability to pace a match, to apply a convincing hold, to transition from hold to hold, from offense to defense and back again, with smooth speed that crafts a story of a serious back-and-forth battle of bodies. Further, Rusty sells a delight to dominate, humiliate and rub his opponent’s face in his physical superiority (not to mention rubbing his opponent’s face in his crotch, ass, pit, feet….). Rusty’s most developed skill for what sells me is his quick wit. He translates the body-on-body story into a battle of wills. He pushes buttons and gets his buttons pushed. His banter ups the hotness of a match exponentially for me.
Finally, what I particularly appreciate about Rusty’s challenge match with former champion homoeroetic wrestling pornboy (of my heart) Mitch Colby, is Rusty’s ability to sell suffering. I think that was a major blind spot for what I’ve seen of Rusty’s work with Can-Am, and NakedKombat just isn’t a context for the long suffering sell. So I’m ecstatic (and a little worn out) from enjoying Rusty’s salesmanship getting hammered, squeezed, pounded and tossed at the hands of Mitch. Let’s face it, if it were just MMA skills I was hot for, I’d be yammering on and on about UFC meat. Those fighters typically leave me a little uninspired, though, because what turns my crank isn’t just the competition, but the eroticized competition that exploits the seduction of pain, humiliation, domination and ownership.
So you almost certainly have a whole different skill set in mind when you rank your favorite wrestlers. That’s no sweat to me. If you really want to throw down in a no-holds-barred match until one of us screams in submission, fair enough. Just like Rusty, I’ll ride you like a pony and put you away wet. But if you’re okay with celebrating the diversity of tastes that make our kink-filled world wonderful, let’s just appreciate the view.

Romanian Relief Fund

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I neglected to thank the generous boys at MuscleRomania for giving me permission to repost a few of their photos yesterday. I also had a couple of last thoughts about these delightful Romanian hunks, so here’s part 2 of yesterday’s post:

First, one more gratuitous shot of Xander, especially for my friend Joe who shares with me a particular fondness for hard men in glasses. Xander is one big, beefy beauty. He has 27 photo galleries, 12 non-nude video clips, and 27 “hot videos” at MuscleRomania, which I believe is the empirical proof to back up my claim yesterday that Xander is the bread and butter of MuscleRomania. If Joe and I scrape together enough pennies to sponsor that muscle-exchange program I mentioned yesterday, I think it’ll take someone the size of Joe Robbins to school Xander in putting all those muscles to their most optimal use in the ring.
Speaking of the ring, I failed to name the headliner wrestler boys from MuscleRomania yesterday. With just a little digging, I’m very pleased to report that MuscleRomania’s first two wrestlers (hopefully of many more to come) are George and Derrick (somehow these names don’t sound all that Romanian, but I’m certainly not an expert).
George appears to be a major ham on camera. He clearly enjoys tossing around and getting tossed a bit by his wrestling buddy Derrick. When Derrick snaps on an armbar and shoves George’s chest against the bar, things seem to turn a little (very little) more seriously competitive, at which point George challenges Derrick to an arm wrestling competition on the bar. George seems to handily overpower Derrick, which disappoints me (because I’m all about Derrick), but I chalk this up to just be Derrick’s ploy to get George to shower off on camera for him (which he does). George has the will to perform, but I think he needs some wrestling lessons from perhaps Lon Dumont to show him how to do more than just look pretty and campy with all those fantastic muscles.
And my for my final segue, speaking of all those muscles… Derrick is a tasty, tasty morsel made to order for me. He’s clearly ready to ham it up no less than George, and even without words, Derrick has major personality on camera. He displays some pretty convincing shadow-punches and kicks in one of his solo videos, and he manages to do the splits perched atop bar stools, in nothing but a jock-thong. Wow. Um…. yeah. Wow. Now I’m seriously wanting to see an entire match between Derrick and George. Let me hear them (I don’t give a crap if I don’t understand them), and by all means, let me hear their bodies in action, pounding against one another and getting pounded to the floor. Lot’s of potential here. And if I got to hand-pick his personal wrestling tutor (not sure that he’d really need one), I’d say Rafe Sanchez has something to teach Derrick, and even if he didn’t… well, I’d pay money to watch the tutorial.

Romanian Side Dish

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A few years back I ran across MuscleRomania.com and roosted there for a while, getting a nice softcore fix. What’s in the water in Romania to grow their boys so big and beautiful? Strike that… I don’t really want to know what’s in the water. It could ruin the fantasy of a nation full of natural, massively muscled, devastatingly handsome, exhibitionist bodybuilders.

My impression is that beautifully bespectacled Xander was/is the bread and butter of the site. He’s mammoth, thick, and has an ass for days. Xander also kinked the place up with full on nudity. If he just wore his glasses in the shower as he soaped up, he’d own my soul. Clearly, Xander is a very successful athlete, and I’m sure he has boys and girls offering him sexual gratification every which way, but still, he has a bit of a nerd look about him, both in and out of his glasses. A world class bodybuilding, glasses wearing, exhibitionist nerd? That’s the stuff of fantasies!
Michael was an early favorite of mine from MuscleRomania. It seems like I’ve seen him elsewhere since then. Michael eventually also offered up the full monty, which is quite a sight to see on a competition bodybuilder. Speaking of which, I love the competition videos and pics of the bodybuilders on stage, side by side with the private-dancer style softcore shots. Fantasy-fueling all the way…
Tigerbeat-looking muscleboy Andrew has remained, by far, my favorite MuscleRomania obsession. Like Michael, Andrew is featured both in on-stage bodybuilder competitions and then in for-my-eyes-only workouts. I’ve never seen video, but the stills of Andrew finally tugging off the bikini posers and showing us all his bits and baubles ranks awfully high in my list of most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.
I’ve been offline from MuscleRomania for a few years now, but I recently ran across a notice that they’re boasting some new wrestling videos. Because I am a zombie to the capitalist marketing monster, I dipped my foot back in the water there. The wrestling vids that I’ve found so far are limited. They all feature these two ripped to shred hunks in jock-thongs. There are five clips of them that I’ve found so far. A couple of them show the duo jokingly tossing one another around playfully. Set to a musical soundtrack (no audio of the boys themselves, sadly), they pull off some lifts, a couple of nice hip tosses, arms bars, and even a surprisingly pleasing rear bearhug in which my favorite of the two battler suffers sweetly.
A couple of the videos under “wrestling” are similarly playfully set arm wrestling scenes, which never quite rises to the threshold of wrestling kink for me, though I can see the attraction. The final wrestling vid is a jovial clip of the same boys tossing one another in the pool. Some of the action qualifies as wrestling, though the best shot is my favorite boy in white simply diving backward, stunningly arching that ripped to shreds body, into the water. It has more of a character of just enjoying a couple of boys horsing around poolside than full on wrestling.
So, all told, MuscleRomania is just serving up a side dish of wrestling. Their main course is still the remarkable juxtaposition of legitimate competition bodybuilders on stage and then the same stunningly gorgeous, massive boys behind-the-scenes offering up a private, usually more revealing show for you and me. There’s nothing explicitly homo about this content, though it’s clearly got you and me squarely in its sights.

I think MuscleRomania has a massive, untapped potential if they choose to pursue the wrestling angle more. For example, I’d blow a gasket to watch Andrew and Michael exchange bodyscissors and bearhugs. Solo beauty is a nice appetizer, but as their wrestling hardbodies illustrate, pitting two (or more) of these sculpted gods against one another would appeal to an entirely new and expanded audience. Perhaps we can get the Rotary Club to sponsor an exchange program… send Denny Cartier, Lon Dumont, and Joe Robbins to put Michael, Andrew, Xander and the others through a wrestling school intensive. Then, let’s bring a few of the Romanian hardbody hopefuls back stateside for a few months of intense work through the homoerotic wrestling circuit. I’ll buy that!