In a recent video posting, SteelMuscleGod teases us: “Hey there, what’s up? Here’s a quickie for all my fans out there. Yeah? Someone’s been growing real big… and real hard.”
I think this is a fantastic form of erotic poetry and performance art. There are multiple layers of meaning here. Indeed, SMG has been adding muscle mass over the past couple of years and, true enough, growing real big and hard. And of course, SMG intends to communicate the double entendre. As we watch him flex and boast and tease and taunt, we, too, grow big and hard.
I remain a little bitter that SteelMuscleGod continues to exist on a celestial plane that’s outside of my price range. I understand that godliness is a valuable commodity. But I have to believe that $50 per 15 minutes is not exactly priced to sell. At least, it’s not priced to sell in the circles I run in. I’m confident an economist could run some figures that would illustrate that SMG would have more worshippers contributing to the offering plate at a more competitive per-hour price.
Still, SMG certainly has an eye for the niche that you and I comprise. He has some wrestling submission videos ready for download-to-own. I don’t know who the lucky, extremely tall worshiper is who’s taunted, tormented, choked, squeezed, lifted and humiliated over and over by SMG, but I’m filled with bitter jealousy of him. I’m also impressed with SMG’s commitment to sell a sweet motel room squash. He milks his body scissors delightfully. He illustrates complete command and ownership of his resident “wimp,” flipping and flinging him every which way in a delightfully solid head scissors. And, true to form, SMG loves himself every step of the way. He loves his domination of the “wimp.” And the delight on his face is enjoyable, adorable, and arousing to see.
Still, I’ve only watched the previews. His sweat soaked godliness looks priceless, but there is, in fact, a price on it. I’m still hoping that someone with deeper pockets than I have will tell me how the download is, whether you get the goods that are promised, and whether 15 minutes of even SteelMuscleGod muscle domination is actually worth $50. Someone in professional homoerotic wrestling needs to buy this boy a plane ticket, set up a few matches (in the ring, PLEASE!!!), and truly send this sex-on-a-stick into the stratosphere. I think I’m finding myself compelled to get back to writing some wrestling fiction featuring a given, Eastern European phenom pitting his muscles and snarling attitude against some ring veterans in, let’s say, Boston…
Damn, I hate that “wimp” who gets to feel up SMG as he’s getting pummeled.
Sidelineland 