Olympic Spirit Revisited

Honestly, British Olympic diver and nearly universal masturbation fantasy Tom Daley’s coming out as a guy dating a guy will not in any substantial way influence my life. It’s not like I, or any of hundreds of thousands of gay men, were refraining from having Tom star in our lusty, speedo clad, speedo stripped, soaking wet erotic imaginations. I appreciate his explicit interest in this not being a big deal. Of course, there are a couple ways to read that. 1) He’s such a postmodern child of the millennium that honestly and intuitively rejects both gender and sexuality binaries as fundamentally patriarchal and of disintegrating salience, or 2) He’d rather skip the social consequences of being publicly known as a guy who likes (among other things, apparently), cock. Whatever.

During the London Olympics, I imagined that not only did Tom like cock, but he also got off on hot, horny homoerotic wrestling. His opening round erotic wrestling match in my imagination pitted him against the awesome (also real life mo) Aussie Matt Mitchum. Cute as a a button, Tom’s minuscule speedos tented impressively as he tried to snap the Aussie’s neck in a long, sweet, crowd pleasing standing headscissors. Tom “the Bomb’s” pouch was stained darkly and liberally as he swiveled his hips, flexed his rippled abs, and flashed that adorable babyface grin at the hometown fans. It was all looking so great for the boy wonder, until Mattie turned the tables, ripped off Tom’s speedo, and wrapped both hands around the British pinup boy’s lovely shaft. Already worked up to a favors pitch by his enjoyment of owning the advantage over his opponent moments earlier, the achingly young pretty boy almost instantly erupted all over his chest. The subsequent ball claw was just icing on the cake. Tom was over and done for, screaming his submission and disappointing the horrified hometown fans. He did redeem himself just a bit when the Aussie kept working his rod post victory, until the boy wonder pumped out a rapid fire second emission. Seriously now, who could stay upset in that rockin’ bod, double barreled cock, and puppy dog eyes for long?

Tom’s fate as a homoerotic wrestler in my imagination took a turn for the better when he partnered with fellow teen babyface Brit diver, Chris Mears. The hometown heroes stayed above the fray in the four way tag team competion until most of the other competitors had already done damage to one another. Tom took drool-worthy Chinese diver Kai Qin out of the match with his patented power bomb. When Matt Mitchum tagged into the action again, hungry for beating more corporal satisfaction from Tom, he once again ripped Daley’s speedo off (damn, the Aussie had Tom’s number!). Matt brutalized the wonder boy with a vicious clothesline. It was looking like an adolescent mugging again, until Tom’s partner couldn’t stand it any longer, and they delivered a mouthwatering double team. Tom earned jack off vengeance, before sleepering the Aussie out cold and then driving home the point with his rod shoved into Matt’s slack mouth as Tom counted out a 3 count on the sleeping beauty. Unfortunately for the Brit boys, they forgot there was one final opponent left in this 4-way tag team match. Before they realized what was happening, Mexican hunk Yahel Castillo Huerta sleepered out Chris with a figure-4 and, at the same time, Tom with a traditional sleeper. It was just so close for the prettiest pair of teenage wet dreams in the Olympics!

So, long story to say that the sexuality of real life Tom Daley won’t have much impact on me at all, unless he wants a date. Short of that, he can love, fuck, or marry whoever he wants as far as I’m concerned. But if he’s got any luck at all, his boyfriend is a hardbodied homoerotic wrestling fanatic who will make my dreams come true for Tom, preferably replaying that homoerotic wrestling competition from my imagination. And if not…whatever. He’s got a permanent place on my podium of homoerotic wrestling fantasy men.





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