Rex’s work in Strip Stakes 2 is phenomenal. As always, it takes two to tango, but Rex is unquestionably the lead in this dance. He lays down the strip stakes. Marc starts off seemingly literally entranced by the sight of his own gorgeous muscles, requiring Rex shove his handsome face into Marc’s to break the spell. Rex loses a couple of items of gear along the way, but Rex’s riding time is completely dominant.
I’ve noted Rex’s awesome size and handsome face from his work with Thunder’s, but his appearance in the BG East ring captivates me like never before. What a face! A homoerotic wrestler with a full beard is notable enough, but that space between Rex’s front teeth and those movie star eye lashes are astonishingly adorable on such a big, beefy bruiser. From a distance, I’d quickly assess him as a muscle bound basher. His upper body is built for ripping opponents limb from limb, and good God, those legs blow my mind! I’m convinced this man squats Mac trucks to build that size. There’s no other possible explanation. So, from a distance, Rex gives the overwhelming impression of an über-masculine bruiser with a clear focus on blunt-force trauma. But hot damn it all if, on closer inspection, you don’t discover that disguised underneath that built-to-heel beard and all that muscle mass is a doe-eyed pretty boy that would make your heart melt and your cock rock hard to see first thing lying next to you when you wake up in the morning.
On another day, or perhaps a different month, Strip Stakes 2 might not have propelled Rex to the top of the ratings. Both Rex and Marc wrestle in broad strokes. There’s little subtlety. This is a poundingly persistent marathon, not the adrenaline hit off a sprint. In fact, there are moments when I’d swear that the match slides into slow motion. Other than Marc getting racked naked across Rex’s mile-wide shoulders, I don’t remember either of them leaving their feet. But in December, I found myself craving exactly what Rex delivered, including gratuitous post-strip stakes naked victory bashing domination of his dark, bulglingly beautiful opponent.
Frankly, when watching matches with a cum shot chaser, I’m most often satiated long before the combatants reach orgasm. It’s more a curiosity than staple fare for my wrestling kink tastes. But last month, I found myself nursing a deep lust to watch muscle-Marc helpless in big Rex’s sleeper. Rex pushed my buttons as he dropped the loser to his big, muscle butt and demanded a final emission-submission from the glassy-eyed, bulging muscleboy, who slowly obeyed his overpowering conqueror.
Rex’s bicep remains relentlessly clamped across Marc’s throat forever as the Italian strokes himself to life. Marc leans back, submissively, against the muscled torso propping him up from behind. Rex stares at Marc’s cock as it swells, flushes red with excitement, and grows slick with precum. On command, at the moment Marc shoots his load onto his lower abdomen, he cries out plaintively his final verbal submission even as he slips into unconsciousness with Rex’s grapefruit bicep pressed solidly against his carotid artery.
Rex dump his many-times-over loser of a muscleboy opponent in a heap, climbs out of the ring and leans back into the nearby couch to study the sight of his handiwork lying like so much wasted muscle in front of him. He’s drained me, like Marc, several times over already. But I can’t help myself but be aroused all over again as Rex breathes in the sweaty scent of his and Marc’s stripped gear. After seeing Rex so frequently keeping the action straight at Thunder’s, I admit that I gasped when I first saw him begin to toy with his cock there ringside. The doe-eyed muscleboy is a grower, gentlemen, and by the time he’s done pushing himself over the edge soaking in the sight of Marc’s defeated body in the ring, Rex proves that truly every inch of his muscle armored body is massive.
There’s a moment of intimacy I experience watching Rex jack-off that I just don’t often experience when I’m enjoying homoerotic wrestling or porn. I think it’s the glimpse of that prettyboy face peering out from behind the Colt model beard and beefy bruiser body. Often I don’t give a damn if the objects of my lust get off. The sight of cum, in and of itself, seldom does much to me. But I find myself aching to see Rex’s face twist in the throes of a post-match orgasm. I’m inspired to another bolt of ecstasy at the sight of Rex inspired to a bolt of ecstasy at the sight of his crushed, humiliated, vulnerable opponent in the ring.
Regular readers know that I typically trend toward technicians, lean bodies and fast-paced action (which is why I’d give Austin Raines my second-place trophy this month, if I had a second-place trophy). But this time around, just like Marc Merino, I’m captured and helpless to do anything other than submit in ecstasy to my reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month: Rex Braddock.