Go on. Try it.

Eli screams his way to yet another victory in the cage.

Eli’s rematch with Jake Jenkins (pre-new ink) for BG East is an astonishingly sexy birthday gift for Eli fans. Eli and Jake start with some “practicing” in the mat room, demonstrating that both of these gorgeous hunks come from accomplished amateur backgrounds. They deliver a clinic of amateur holds and throws, each wrestler determined to prove his technical superiority.

The trash talk flies fast and furious from the start, getting hotter and hotter as the minutes tick by. “Maybe you should stop pissing me off,” Jake almost coos.  “Maybe you should stop sucking!” Eli snaps back.

Jake mocks Primus like poking a pit bull with a stick. “Uh oh,” he chuckles, controlling Eli’s back. “What’s about to happen to Eli Black?”  Eli gets more and more pissed by the second. “Stop being a bitch, Jake!”

These boys tell a fantastically compelling story. You know the story. It’s about the rush of testosterone mixed with injured pride. It’s told in sweat and grunts, all the while desperately trying not to look like they’re breaking a sweat or having to work. The story is about getting seriously pissed off at one another, but struggling to maintain their cool, to laugh it off, to look like the hot hunk who just out hustled or outmuscled you isn’t getting in your head.  Well, Jake manages the I’m too cool to look like I’m working bit. Eli isn’t really one who tends to hide it when he’s getting good and pissed off.

Jake just laughs when Eli snaps on a spladle, stretching Jake’s legs apart. “Stretch ’em out a little more,” Jake taunts him.  When Eli obliges, Jake’s back arches and the veins in his neck rise to the surface, but he just smiles. “Quit being a little bitch! I know this hurts,” Eli snarls back.

Jake locks on a headscissors, pulling Eli’s face high up against his ass. “How does that smell?” Jake asks nonchalantly. A few seconds later, the two are stalking one another around the small mat room, and Jake shrugs his big shoulders out of his singlet. “Oh, what,” Eli snaps, “you’re big?” Jake grins ear from ear when he replies, “I’m sexy!” Never to be outdone, never to to fail to see the element of competition in anything in life, Eli quickly sheds his singlet, yelling, “I totally, totally look better than you!”  With Eli standing in nothing but his jock strap and boots, his abs ripped to shreds, Jake gives credit where credit is due. With just a twinge of a sound of surprised respect, Jake murmurs, “Not bad, not bad at all!”

Eli took a hard, humiliating loss in his first time out of the gates for BG East. At RHW, he took a hard, humiliating loss his first time there, as well… to Jake. But the infinitely ambitious, testosterone overdosed hot head Eli is done with his rookie initiations. He spends the next 25 minutes making Jake sweat, scream, and submit. It’s not a walk in the park, and somehow, I can’t imagine Eli would ever bother with something as ridiculously boring as taking a walk in the park. He loves this shit. He loves being challenged. He loves his low boiling rage getting poked and prodded. He loves getting pissed off, because he’s convinced that, like Dr. Bruce Banner, once he completely loses control of his rage, he’s unstoppable and superhuman.  These two toned athletes go at it non-stop, meaner and harder and sweatier with every passing moment. They trade holds and submissions, and they dance along the edge of injuring each other’s bodies along the way to their real goal, crushing each other’s egos. With just a minute left, the tables are still turning back and forth until Eli successfully wipes the grin off of Jake’s handsome face (by choking him out cold), once and for all.

Happy birthday, Eli!

Happy birthday, Eli. You haven’t been on the scene of homoerotic wrestling long, but you’ve already rallied an army of fans who are sincerely happy to have you on board.