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Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month –
Lon Dumont |
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| Lon cuts big Eddy Rey down to size |
When Eddy finally arrived, Lon continued to captivate me by taking the lead in the dance of establishing the plot. Eddy encouraged Lon to continue with his posing routine, but Lon refused with a snort. “People pay to see me flex,” he explains. Lon wasn’t about to just give it away for free. When Eddy proposes that perhaps he might just make Lon flex for him, Lon put his hands on his hips and tilted his head to side, thinking. When he acknowledges that Eddy is a tall drink of water and calls him, “Sprout,” I both laugh and grow even more aroused at the same time.
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| Eddy obediently flexes for Lon |
In short order, Lon confirmed my fondest hope. Via a blindside assault on big Eddy, Lon demonstrated with brutal grace that he has not only the body, not only the persona, but also the ring savvy and wrestling skill to deserve my firmly established fanaticism. On message like a bear trap, Lon made sweaty Eddy flex his hot muscles over and over, wringing one submission after another out of the big man. Lon was patient but firm as he physically and psychologically broke down big Eddy, systematically transforming him from an over-confident, hard-bodied hunk into a whimpering, obedient, defenseless plaything.
As documented here at neverland, each and every new release from Lon Dumont makes my heart flutter like a star-struck schoolgirl. I most appreciate his rookie wrecking work, such as
beating down to size the likes of big, dumb (and presumably full of cum)
Terry O’Daly and,
most recently, hairy bruiser
Morgan Cruise. Big, strong, barely legal studs like these are genetically predisposed and socially trained to believe that they deserve to come out on top over smaller, more mature opponents. Handsome, letterman jacket-wearing sides of beef grow up unfailingly reinforced in the faith that youth and size merit victory when they stand, flexing, side-by-side with the likes of 5’6 and 15/16″ tall, 150 pound, 30-something opponents. When Lon picks them apart like Thanksgiving turkey leftovers, you can see their rookie worldviews come crashing down around them. As Lon cuts them down to size and then lifts his right boot, pauses as he takes aim, and then stomps all over them, tenderizing their cornfed muscles from head to toe, the likes of Terry and Morgan learn that the real world will not be handed to them on a platter just because they’re big, fit and young.
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| Ripped Lon and partner Chace LaChance |
Versatility turns me on, as well, and my reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month can tell more than one story. Teamed up with too, too tweezed go-go boy rookie Chace LaChance, Lon was also convincingly one half of pretty-in-peach, going down in two out of three to big, nasty Donnie Drake and his sadist apprentice, Doug Rand. Babyface heroes who battle valiantly but are bested by crafty shortcuts and vile double teams are beautiful to behold. When Lon is knocked out cold and laid out defenseless and vulnerable next to his pretty partner in the middle of the ring, all that gorgeous muscle so helpless and humiliated makes me gasp.
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| Joe’s huge thighs crushing Lon’s armored core |
And speaking of gasping… when I interviewed Lon earlier this year, I asked him what it would take to be bested in a singles match. “Perhaps someone with a 100-pound weight advantage might have better luck,” he answered bluntly, “but besides that, I just don’t see it happening.” Perhaps going on the record like that gave the boys at BG East a devilish idea, because
the next time we saw Lon climb into the ring, he was face-to-face… or perhaps, face to sternum… with 6’2″, 240 pound Titan,
Joe Robbins. Bigger men have gone weak in the knees in the shadow of humungous Joe, but Lon is a study in self-control. Whether Lon’s prediction from my interview was playing through his mind as Joe wrapped his tree trunks around him and crushed him into sobbing agony, I don’t know. But while nearly 100-pounds of weight advantage did, indeed, blemish Lon’s undefeated 1-on-1 record, Lon proved that he’s not just entertaining when he’s large and in charge. He’s a vision, suffering for days, enduring boatloads of pain for a marathon session of gut abuse that incredibly reluctantly wrings a string of submissions out of the bodybuilder. When Lon is gasping, clutching his rips, slumped against the ring apron, his loss to Joe is just one more check in the win column when it comes to confirming my lustful devotion.
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| Picture perfect Lon rips Terry O’Daly’s knee off |
Not everyone is turned on by what I’m turned on by, but one thing that defines this blog and my lust is wrestling. And Lon is first and foremost a sexy-ass wrestler. Just like his stomps, his masterful application of joint wrenching submission holds is brutally graceful. The rookies that Lon excels in destroying are typically ham-handed, a little awkward as they work themselves into position to snap on a Boston crab or have to use trial-and-error to figure out the most effective angle to work a bearhug. Lon, on the other hand, slides like liquid gold into position. He knows just how far a knee will bend, just how much tension a back can take. He’s such a technician that he can afford to be an artist as well, flexing his body just right, snarling beautifully, displaying his writhing opponent gorgeously for the perfect camera angle.
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Like me, Lon can’t help but marvel at the
image of his complete mastery over Morgan Cruise |
It was Lon’s deeply satisfying rookie wrecking of hairy chested bruiser Morgan Cruise that earned him, at last, the title of homoerotic wrestler of the month. The vision of Morgan’s Prometheus Bound performance nearly earned the rookie the reader’s choice as the rookie with the most potential. I, for one, am very, very keen to see Morgan and his cleft chin show up again to see if he can start to learn some of those lessons that Lon so patiently offered him. But as beautiful as Morgan’s destruction is, my eyes are stuck like glue on every flex, every vein rising to the surface, every angle of Lon’s body as he demonstrates his mastery of the ring and as he masters Morgan’s powerful body and so vulnerable soul.
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| Lon’s excellence of execution |
There’s something profoundly erotic about a man who is completely self-possessed and in control of his emotions even as he administers debilitating doses of pain and suffering. This probably explains why I continue to enjoy Dexter so much (despite Michael C. Hall’s stubborn refusal to let us see his ass), and it most definitely explains, in part, why Lon captivates me so thoroughly. He’s a rational wrestler. He’s thinking as he’s applying that armbar. He contemplating the moral of the story, even as he’s threatening to rip poor Morgan’s head off of his neck. When Lon is finished with Morgan, he gives the wrecked rookie a thoughtful examination. It’s not personal. Hell, Lon even suggests that he’d be willing to entertain teaming up with beefy Morgan to continue to tutor the heel-hopeful.
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Lon’s rippling abs, sculpted quads, bulding shoulders, rock hard pecs,
perfectly employed. |
Lon has been working my wrestling kink like a champ from the moment his flexing image appeared on my screen. His charming interview from last February proved that Lon is a quality human being in addition to being a captivating homoerotic wrestler. He’s been at the top of my charts for a long time when it comes to my favorite homoerotic wrestlers (non-pornboys), and his destruction of Morgan Cruise’s body and dreams makes him, at long last and unquestionably, my homoerotic wrestler of the month.
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| Lon wrestles, flexes, and thinks his way to #1 |
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As documented here at neverland, each and every new release from Lon Dumont makes my heart flutter like a star-struck schoolgirl. I most appreciate his rookie wrecking work, such as beating down to size the likes of big, dumb (and presumably full of cum) Terry O’Daly and, most recently, hairy bruiser Morgan Cruise. Big, strong, barely legal studs like these are genetically predisposed and socially trained to believe that they deserve to come out on top over smaller, more mature opponents. Handsome, letterman jacket-wearing sides of beef grow up unfailingly reinforced in the faith that youth and size merit victory when they stand, flexing, side-by-side with the likes of 5’6 and 15/16″ tall, 150 pound, 30-something opponents. When Lon picks them apart like Thanksgiving turkey leftovers, you can see their rookie worldviews come crashing down around them. As Lon cuts them down to size and then lifts his right boot, pauses as he takes aim, and then stomps all over them, tenderizing their cornfed muscles from head to toe, the likes of Terry and Morgan learn that the real world will not be handed to them on a platter just because they’re big, fit and young.
Sidelineland 
Lon's match against Rey in Fantasymen 32 was the first one I purchased, all because of Lon! In my mind, I hope that Lon is as turned on by your words as you are turned on by his methodical manhandling of his opponents!