There was a stiff competition for homoerotic wrestler of the month this time around. Whenever BG East drops a new catalog, the field is thick, and add to that a couple of choice releases from Rock Hard Wrestling, a couple eye catching matches in Naked Kombat, and some hot new commodities at Muscle Domination Wrestling, and there was a lot of stiffness to go round, believe me. One hot hunk in particular had me wrapped around his little finger, however, just about as completely as he had his opponent essentially begging for the wrestling foreplay to come to an end and full throttle fucking to commence. Bringing a hot, hard, gorgeous hunk to the point of pleading to be allowed to concede so he can give in to his consuming lusts is a most excellent plot point, and one entirely convincingly-delivered by my new reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month…
Now, I’ve had my eye on Skrapper a long time. His silky baritone rumbling out the phrase, “dude” is like Pavlov’s bell to me these days. He just has to say, “dude” and I’m salivating and hard as a rock. Clearly, I’m not the only one who’s been conditioned to expect intensely hot things from Skrapper, because it takes zero time at all before Trey Dixon is telegraphing his raging lust when the two show up in the mat room in Passion and Punishment. Typically, homoerotic wrestling starts with the tension of wrestling, but not this time. This time, the boys both clearly and obviously want to fuck from the start. There’s no pretense, no bluster. They’re sucking face and grinding crotches in an instant. And I’m buying ever second of it.
Now, I assume his parents did not literally name him “Skrapper” on his birth certificate, but they should have. Time and time again, the gutsy, fierce, hungry, stance of Skrapper has demonstrated little finesse and an overabundance of raw emotion. The boy just wants to dominate so… fucking… much! You can’t swing a cat without hitting a homoerotic wrestler who is trying to look like he’s bringing the heat. Skrapper just is. I buy it wholesale every time. No pretense. No posing. He just wants to grind an opponent into submission with anything and everything it may take, which frequently includes Skrapper’s balls in his face. It’s not always the case, but frequently Skrapper let’s us glimpse his erotic freak flag, perhaps never as openly as when the sadistic-erotic master himself got hold of him, Kid Vicious. But as much as I adore that match with KV, I tell you Passion and Punishment is even more sexual and sexier.
It’s not uncommon for me to get critiques of my favorite-picks who pull the “two-to-tango” card. Let me just intercept that one by acknowledging Trey Dixon more than carries his weight in this match on all fronts. Where the hell did they find this stud!? This is just his SECOND match, and both of them have burned holes in my retinas for being over the top scorching hot! I don’t know if Trey has done porn (though I fully expect someone to tell me now), but he should, because raw, sexy sensuality drips off of him like honey. This guy is no rookie, regardless of how many matches I’ve seen him in on camera, and he quite nearly out-scraps Skrapper
Trey’s Achilles heel, so to speak, is Skrapper’s sexiness. Whenever Trey gets a head of steam in the match, when Skrapper is vulnerable, wrapped up, tied down, Trey cannot resist tasting the goods. They want each other. They need each other. Fuck, they DESERVE each other, working their fine asses overtime in this non-stop throw down that leaves the mat drenched in sweat.
However, I give this to Skrapper not because he, in the end, ends up on top, but because he beats Trey not just into submission, but into nearly weeping for release. They’re both exhausted, totally wasted, their bodies bruised, slapping against one another wetly, glistening in the light. And that slow burning lust that’s been on the simmer the entire time finally makes Trey melt as Skrapper bears down on him, domineering over top of him, that phenomenal tenacity being the barest finger on the scales that tip finally in Skrapper’s direction. Then there’s this smirk on Skrapper’s face, an exhausted, but certain acknowledgment that he’d broken his opponent in body and spirit not just by physical domination, but by raw, sexual appeal.
Honestly, I won’t be surprised if I hear someone argue that they watched the match and thought Trey “won.” It’s just that close of a physical battle, and the climax teeters on the edge of just saying “fuck it” to the question of who out-wrestled whom as the boys settle in to seriously go to town on one another. With 30 seconds left in the taping, honestly, a strong case could be made either way. But then there are those last 30 seconds…
Skrapper breaks the intimate embrace and snags Trey in a side headlock, dragging the stunned, beautiful, incredibly hot stud out of the mat room and, presumably, onto just about any flat surface out of camera shot to ride that bright red, round ass of his like a rodeo star. The chemistry between these two is electric. Their mutual ferocity is epic. The raw blend of lust and wrestling is intuitive and as far as I’m concerned, 100% genuine. But for pure entertainment, the hunk here that grabs me by the balls and makes me gasp over and over again first and foremost is Skrapper. The title of homoerotic wrestler of the month, just like Trey Dixon’s phenomenal ass, belongs unquestionably to him.