I think it’s entirely possible that we’re living in a new Golden Age of homoerotic wrestling.  Just saying that will likely fan flames, but hear me out.  The crop of last month’s new releases to pick nominees for homoerotic wrestler of the month is exhaustingly extensive, AND BG East did not release a new catalog.  I’m sure wrestling producers might have a different impression of what it means for us to have so many exciting options (over-saturated market?  I hope not).  But for fans, I have to think we’ll look back on seasons like this and marvel at the scope and depth of homoerotic wrestling being produced right now.  For example, take a gander at new face and gorgeously hairy legged Geo, always erotically supercharged Brendan Cage, and ripped to shreds Bradon Charron putting their muscles on the mats for Thunder’s Arena’s 2012 edition of Halloween Havoc.  Consider Thunder’s fratboy-gone-wild Dominic and muscle giant Austin Wolf making muscles quiver in Mat Rats 25.  Pendulously power-packed Hooper is eye-catching as ever in both Mat Rats 26 and 27.  I’m just now introducing myself to new kids on the block, Muscle DominationWrestling, but already they grabbed my attention with a wildly sexy three-way battle between big, hunky farmboy Tony Law, increasingly ripped trust fund baby, Damien Rush, and nasty new handsome heel Henry Sandow for Superhero Contest Interrupted.  Eastern European niche fantasyman, Steel Muscle God, turned the lights out for The Wimpy Boy (who is, frankly, a guilty pleasure of mine) for their bearhugs and headscissors features.  Over at Can-Am, always dangerous Jobe Zander digs deep to punish achingly fresh Bobby Blake in Decrotchery 4.  Tyler St. James and Travis Wild are nothing but a brilliantly cast catch-weight pairing for Pro Sex Fight 10 (I’m thinking more catch-weight fuck-stakes could scratch a major itch for me).  Despite going heavy on the sex and light on the combat, I have to acknowledge JetSet Men’s “parody” of The Ultimate Fighter that they call The Ultimate Top, including two nominees for HWOTM: a potential nominee for sexiest legs on the planet, Logan Vaughn, and ass-pounding heel Tristan Baldwin aka Aryx Quinn. And finally Rock Hard Wrestling has a crop of nominees that rock me, including goldenboy turning nasty, Austin Cooper, barely legal mouthful of beef Brodie Fisher, British muscle beauty Will Stanley and teen heart throb Jason Kane for Tag Team Torture, as well as Brit pounder Will Stanley yet again getting Brutalized by both expert tormentor Ethan Andrews and his heel apprentice Aaron Travers.

What a field!  The breadth and depth here is stunning.  From hard hitting, hardcore porn to the homage to muscle worship fratboy fun and games, there’s a custom gem to suit so many varied kinks!  Picking just one homoerotic wrestler of the month from this crop is essentially comparing apples to oranges to dildos.  On the dildo side of things, let me just say that someone needs to sequester Logan Vaughn in a wrestling ring with a serious pro coach and turn those wad-blowing quads into the lethal weapons they’re meant to be.  But the pitifully shortchanged combat in Ultimate Top just can’t make even a Greek God like Logan actually come out on top as HWOTM.  After painstakingly eliminating one worthy nominee after another, I’m left with a fantasy beast who’s been a recurring superstar in my erotic wrestling dreams over the past couple of months…

“They’re up here, man!”

Speaking of itch-scratching, I honestly didn’t even know I had an empty space inside just waiting to be filled by a gorgeously muscled, 6’4″ 235 pounder with an aversion to a razor. An in case that metaphor was too subtle, let me just reiterate that Austin Wolf is welcome to fill one specific empty space inside of me any day!  In his pre-match confessional for Mat Rats 25, Austin says that he’s a football jock who decided to moonlight for Thunder’s sort of as a lark, coming down to Florida “to kick a little ass.”  When rosy-cheeked fratboy Dominic tries to demonstrate the muscle mass that he predicts will make big, big, big Austin suffer, Austin lifts his arm, flexes his bicep, and points out where the quality beef is hanging: “They’re up here, man,” he taunts “little” D.

Let me repeat, big, big, BIG Austin Wolf!

In my blow by blow review of Austin’s first match, I spent a lot of time marveling at the “unexpected guest” that showed up in a big way in Hooper’s trunks.  And who could blame the kid!? My pants grow uncomfortably tight just thinking about getting my back cracked across massive Austin’s thigh, looking up at that incredibly handsome, rugged face and knowing that I am entirely at this muscle god’s mercy. However, as if to point out that it’s not just his lucky, lucky opponents who are swinging pipe, there’s delightful movement in big Austin’s trunks, particularly evident when Scrappy-Doo locks on an improbable rear bearhug and lifts the powerhouse off his feet.  Those trunks did not start out that full, my friends!

Wake up and smell the muscle!

Austin is perfect pitch in Mat Rats 25 for where my mind wanders the moment I see him on camera.  His voice is about an octave and a half deeper than his fratboy stud opponent.  I’d love to offer my services to manscape every inch of Austin’s fanstasyman body, but there’s no way that I could do better than the clearly loving hand keeping this lightly hairy muscle monster so perfectly trim and coiffed.  And if anyone has a moral imperative to flex and pose his crazy-intimidating giant muscle physique as a devastating offensive tool to strike terror into the heart of an opponent, it’s Austin Wolf.  In my currently running fondest dream, I’m waking up, drowsy and a little woozy, from being sleepered to the edged of consciousness, only to find myself locked in a crotch-to-face headscissors looking up at the massive mountain in Austin’s trunks in the foreground, his fur-coated six-pack and pecs a little farther away, and the huge peaks of his biceps on the horizon, looming over me like a terrible, thrilling, unstoppable disciplining god.

Austin muscles Dominic into position.

Spoiler alert for those who care, Austin gives up multiple, wailing submissions to a half a dozen different holds that the acne-faced D-bomb applies to his long, powerful body before all is said and done.  That deep, bass rumble jumping up an octave in panicked submission is, undeniably, highly erotic for my tastes.  The fact that a physical specimen like Austin can sell anguish and fear does nothing but make me that much more infatuated.  However, I have to say it’s Austin on top that transports me, and it’s Austin on top that cinched his scissorhold on the title this month.  In particular, Austin is unflinching in riding D’s barely clad bubble butt like a capital “P” Porn Star.  The stills that I include in this post likely oversell the eroticism, but not by too terribly much.  It doesn’t take me a lot of imaginative license at all to picture Austin’s muscled ass flexing rhythmically as he fills a particular empty space that Dominic opens up for him deep inside those sweet, pale cheeks of his.

Austin could rip D’s head off without even trying!

Somebody thought that it would be a good idea to have ruddy-cheeked Dominic teach big, bruiser Austin “a lesson,” and I’m sure that there’s a big audience for that angle.  As for me, even with Austin selling like a high-class pro, there’s a suspension of disbelief that’s a fraction too fantastical for me to entirely buy, because any moment at which Austin seriously puts his hands on this kid, it’s clear he could rip his head off without breaking a sweat.  The initial collar-and-elbow, for example, doesn’t cut it, because D just doesn’t pull off the appearance that he isn’t utterly outmatched, even though Austin refrains from tossing the kid through the wall.  But when Austin’s on top, with his meat pressing down into Dominic’s ample ass crack, with Austin’s tree trunks planted firmly around the kid’s hips and D’s face almost disappearing underneath just one of the giant’s HUGE hands threatening to rip his skull off his neck, Austin owns me as completely as he does little D.

Dominic’s vulnerable back needs a fresh, damp, sticky coat of Wolf juice!

I’ve harassed Thunder in the past for sticking so fervently to the rowdy frathouse schtick that they leave behind a gay wrestling kinkster like me in service to, I presume, a more closeted gay wrestling kinkster who’d be too freaked out by something more explicitly erotic.  Thunder’s knows my thoughts on the matter, and Mr. Mike knows that there’s a level of appreciation I can’t reach for quite a bit of their catalog that appears pointed at an audience other than me.  But Austin Wolf growling, sweating, and flexing his bazookas as he stares down at little D’s back with his powertool poised in the fuck-the-loser position is a beautiful example of homoerotic wrestling that does not require (or even warrant) a literal fuck-finisher to communicate something intoxicating to me.  Some chaw spitting closet-case probably looks at Mat Rats 25, curls his upper lip, and through his rotting teeth spits out the words, “Aw, fuck, that’s so gay.”  And in this rarest of cases, I completely and enthusiastically agree with the inbred self-hater.

Crane your neck upward and gaze at towering HWOTM, Austin Wolf!

That’s not to say, however, that I wouldn’t blow a gasket to see smokin’ hot Austin Wolf’s exquisite proportions in a wrestling ring.  I’d give my firstborn to see him tied in the ropes, his trunks peeled off his mile-long body, and his raw meat punished viciously in the hands of the sort of competition that he’s almost certainly not going to face at Thunder’s Arena.  But this brown-eyed powerhouse ripped from Greek mythology stares unflinchingly at me and my unapologetically gay wrestling fetish, pumps his fantasy physique, and demonstrates that even with just 2 matches under his belt, he’s ready to be a crowd pleaser.  Step back, all you other contenders, because a man this big needs room to strut to the front of the line and take a seat on the throne as my reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month!