Wall of Meat

Jeremy “Stonewall” Stevens v Marcus “Titan” Ruhl
Having recently been wooed back to dishing out cash to watch pornboys wrestle for fuck stakes over at Naked Kombat, I’ve been wondering if I’d regret it.  Honestly, I think this is the fourth time I’ve started a new subscription with NK, after being tempted beyond my power to resist, and then losing interest from either uninspired action or, most recently, their drastic roll back of new releases.  For what is arguably the most spontaneous homoerotic wrestling format in production, NK has at times veered into surprisingly formulaic territory.  Even the pornboys can start to look alike and blur in my memory.  And then there’s this week’s new release: Marcus “Titan” Ruhl v Jeremy “Stonewall” Stevens.
Marcus “Titan” Ruhl – 5’11”, 200 pounds, first time on NK
It’s as if NK read my recent post on my on-again/off-again infatuation with twinks and dropped 5’11”, 200 lbs Marcus “Titan” Ruhl in my lap and dared me to try to even think about, much less lust over a twink.  Holy shit, this kid looks huge!  They claim he’s just 5 pounds heavier than pectacular Jeremy Stevens, but I tell you that’s bullshit.  Jeremy looks incredibly fuckable, as always, and I could get lost for days finding more crevices to grind on Mr. Stonewall.  But rookie Ruhl is nothing short of a sex gladiator muscle beast!
Marcus Ruhl looks like he’s trying to decide whether to jump Jeremy from behind in the middle of “Stonewall’s” pre-match testimonial.
In the pre-match interview, Jeremy tries to talk trash by referring to Ruhl as “just a wall of meat,” which sort of strikes me like saying his opponent is “just going to kick my ass.”  Typically, NK boys remain stonefaced in the background when their opponents are doing their pre-match testimonials, but Ruhl can’t keep a straight face.  Jeremy’s prediction of climbing that wall of meat and making him his bitch makes me snicker a little, too.  Has he even looked over his shoulder at the beast behind him!? Marcus’ rookie testimonial presents his sexy, deep-throated accent along with his contemptuous sneer as he (again, atypical of NK) looks over his shoulder and rolls his eyes at the finger-food appetizer behind him trying to throw back his shoulders and not look like he’s already doing spinchter exercises in preparation for getting plowed.  “What do I think of my opponent?” Ruhl muses.  “I bench press more than him.  He’s going to get it.”

Marcus Ruhl starts to give it to instantly winded Jeremy Stevens.

In one of the worst first rounds I’ve seen, Jeremy not only doesn’t climb that wall of meat as predicted, he can’t even manage to earn more than 4 NK points.  Ruhl is just incredible to watch.  With each of his thighs about as thick as Jeremy’s waist, Marcus’ center of gravity is somewhere below his navel, which when you get a load of the insanely huge pecs and upper arms he’s sporting, should make you gasp.  He admitted in his testimonial that he has no formal combat experience, but he’s “been in a couple of street fights” (I pity the streets).  It shows, with some woodenness, lack of initiative, and bull-in-the-china shop approach to every hold and move.  But then again, when you’re a bull the size of Marcus Ruhl, a lack of finesse and technique can be forgiven.

Jeremy thinks he’s got the wall of meat pulled down, but Ruhl muscles back up again!

He’s all over Jeremy early going, and with that mass on top of him, Jeremy is worn out pushing the boulder uphill.  To start round 2, Jeremy tries to marshall the strategy he predicted would win him the match, swarming the wall of meat with speed, latching on legs and arms and dragging the massive man to the mat.  And then, as if to mock his opponent’s “wall of meat” comment, Ruhl muscles himself up to his knees, pauses, and then powers the rest of the way up to his feet with his 195 pound opponent still latched on.  Holy fuck, the power is mesmerizing, watching this happen not once, but twice, and perhaps Jeremy is mesmerized as well, because he loses further ground by the end of round 2, trailing the mighty beast 11 to 24.

Bulging muscles glisten in oil
As if to make certain I was paying attention, NK staged this match to climax (for me, anyway) with an all-nude oil wrestling round (I’m a proponent of more oil wrestling in today’s homoerotic wrestling scene).  Marcus’ already intoxicating body turns unbelievably even sexier with a liberal coat of baby oil making his bulges glisten under the overhead lights.  Again, I feel like I need to clarify that Jeremy is fucking stunning in oil as well.  But I have a hard time tearing my eyes away from the marinated wall of meat staring him down.

Jeremy Stevens runs headlong into a marinated wall of meat

Marcus Ruhl does not have a competition bodybuilder physique (and you know how hypnotizing I can find one of those in a wrestling match).  No, Ruhl’s incredible mass isn’t exactly pretty or aesthetically proportioned.  His dimpled ass jiggles a bit.  His head-to-toe meat is liberally marbled and succulent.  A big, bruiser football daddy like this does not always speak to me, but Marcus Ruhl’s baby oiled body is roaring out a scream that’s absolutely deafening.

Jeremy’s got the tiger by a mouthwateringly gorgeous tail!

All that mouthwatering mass Ruhl carries finally seems to slow him down, along with a difficulty keeping a handle on the slippery “little” fucker who seems to have an ever so slight edge in managing the lubricant.  The mighty man getting controlled, even briefly, including losing back points, getting wrapped up and made to struggle, is a little slice of heaven.

Grade “A” beef!
There’s a relentlessness about Ruhl that’s incredible to watch.  He promised to “steamroll” his “little” opponent, and there’s an inevitability about him when he works up even a moment of momentum.  Like trying to stop a landslide, Jeremy’s fucked long before round 4.  And there just isn’t an angle from which Ruhl’s oiled body fails to make me gasp.  His triceps require their own zip codes (each!).  His forearms could give Jonny Firestorm a run for his money (please).  And as incredible as is his upper body, it’s his ass and legs that are most astonishing for me.

Ruhl parks his truck on Jeremy’s chin
If he had just managed to snap those telephone poles around his opponent’s noggin, it would have been lights out for lovely Jeremy.  Really, scissoring those beasts around anything on his opponent would have surely ended in something broken or unconscious, leaving me screaming “headscissors!!!” at the screen throughout.  But no, not once does he seriously snap those soul-crushing thighs around anything.  Please, please someone pull this rook to the side and introduce him to the weapon of ass destruction that his body is! 
Cheek to cheek
Fortunately, Ruhl does plant those massive, motorboat-ready glutes down on Jeremy’s head, pinning the lucky bastard’s cheek to the mat and leaving him helpless to defend himself against Ruhl’s delight in squeezing and stroking Jeremy’s lovely cock.  Good god, talk about a rock and hard place!  This rook has serious potential that I’m praying to the gods of homoerotic wrestling will not be wasted on a one-hit wonder.  The meat dangling from his crotch is not one bit dwarfed by the wall of meat to which it’s attached, and the glimpses of snarky, sneering, I-will-plant-you-into-the-mat-like-a-walnut attitude convince me that this power hitter could strike terror into the hearts of young hopefuls in just about any homoerotic wrestling company that wooed him.

Superman in trouble?
And even then, when he’s technically in a bad way with Jeremy owning his back, threatening a quite literal rear naked choke, the concentrated power and poise in the dark haired gladiator is incredibly provocative.  If ever there was a body made for an erotic wrestling double-team, this has got to be it.  He’s got more than a little trouble staying focused with Jeremy’s mitt working the jackhammer, so just imagine the feast of putting another hungry grappler into the mix to scale the wall.  Both of these muscled studs can barely pry themselves off the mat in the waning seconds of the match, giving a very convincing look of hunks who’ve legitimately burned their tanks of gas.
Who’s meat now, bitch!?
Jeremy makes up major ground in round 3, but still is nowhere near digging himself out of the hole he earned in the first 2 rounds.  After time is called and they take neutral positions to await the announcement of the final score, Jeremy’s hot, rippled abs heave and puff like bellows.  The look of exhaustion, uncertainty, perhaps a touch of fear is impossible to miss on his face.  Ruhl just looks like he’s staring down a quarter-pounder after a 24-hour fast.  The official announces that Jeremy’s ass belongs to the Titan with a 32-27 victory.

The thrill of victory, the taste of defeat

Round 4 starts the way you expect if you’ve seen NK: a lingering, dominating blow job with the loser on his knees.  As for me, I tend to fast forward through this bit.  Watching a blow job is like indy car racing in my mind.  Yawns for 199 laps and then a shot of adrenaline when the white flag flies for the final lap.  Admittedly, rookie Ruhl keeps me entertained with some nasty face slapping across his conquest’s cheeks.  It starts a little playful, but damn, he really nails the blond bombshell a few times.  Both boys’ rods remain at full attention, so the corporal punishment laced oral is clearly turning all three of us on.

Full on muscle worship at Naked Kombat!

Making me think Ruhl may be a rookie-savant, he suddenly flings Jeremy’s face to the mat. “You know what?  Why don’t you get down there and worship this muscle-body, you loser!”  He slaps him in the face, adding, “like you mean it!”  Jeremy doesn’t actually have to be told twice.  Starting with Ruhl’s left foot, he licks and sucks slowly up that gargantuan leg.  And yet again, I wouldn’t have believed it, but I swear Ruhl’s body becomes several hundred times sexier with Jeremy’s obviously enthusiastic muscle worship session.  Inch by inch he climbs the wall of meat, his tongue flickering and stroking, tasting the incredibly sweet taste of defeat.  When he finally reached his vanquisher’s left nipple, Ruhl flexes his huge left bicep as Jeremy’s eyes are riveted by the sight.  Dropping his arm, still flexed, at his side, silently he commands his loser to worship it, and this time Jeremy doesn’t even have to be told once.  While the loser opens wide and bathes every inch of the upper arm with his tongue, Ruhl’s left hand slides across Jeremy’s muscled shoulders, squeezing and stroking appreciatively.  The mutual hunger at this point is simply a thing of beauty.

“I spent most of the time trying to get out from underneath the truck!”
Two big, aggressive muscleboys fucking works, of course.  When Ruhl forces Jeremy to climb on top of him and ride the beast, the blond bombshell can’t restrain himself.  He cums across that massive chest and sprays the winner in the face.  Marcus is none too flattered, flinging Jeremy off of him and returning the favor, with Jeremy obediently kneeling for the muscleman facial.  In the post-match testimonials, Ruhl claims that he’s never been muscle worshipped before, which is a crime against nature as far as I’m concerned.  “This is something I’m into now!” he says enthusiastically in answer to the question of whether he’d return for more matches at NK (I want a signed contract!).   Jeremy gets the last word about what it was like to battle the wall of meat.  “I spent most of the time trying to get out from underneath the truck!”  Most memorable moments from the mat, Jeremy?  “Both times I got behind him and he stood up!  That was pretty impressive!”
…to say the least…

2 thoughts on “Wall of Meat

  1. You had me at "wall of meat." Jesus. (And the "bull-in-the-china shop approach" actually sounds really hot to me. "Leave that fancy elven stuff to the elves.")

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