Whoever is at the front desk in the hotel where Damien Rush and Muscle Master Kevin are staying, he’s one of us. How do I know? Because he’s apparently intentionally double-booked these two hot, hairy, pumped up studs in the same suite, both of them desperate for a (private) dip in the in suite hot tub.
This newest season on Muscle Domination Wrestling is featuring a noticeably beefier version of Muscle Mast Kevin. He’s not as cut, but sporting a whole lot more meat on those bones, accompanied by a lumberjack beard and a felonious disdain for sharing. Or taking turns. Though I wish this scenario was settled with the two hunks agreeing to share the more than ample hot tub. Naked. Alas.
Anyhow. In Zzzzzzzz 3, Damien Rush showed up for his dip in the bubbles wearing a wrestling singlet. His hairy pecs bulge out the top. His huge shoulders are mapped with pulsing veins. And he’s not having any of it when MMK tries to muscle in and intimidate pretty Damien out of his already paid for suite.
Muscle Domination Wrestling fans know that MMK has a fuse about 2 millimeters long, so no one but a newbie will be shocked that he opens a can of whoop ass on Damien in the blink of an eye. Happily for us, MMK’s carefully channeled rage immediately lighted upon the perfect solution to this conflict: they both need to get wet together. Of course, MMK’s version of this scenario has his hands wrapped around Damien’s throat as he dunks the stud.
Damien is begging for mercy in less than 2 minutes, which I have to admit, is turning me on. Hairy, hunky, hot as fuck Damien is overwhelmed and ready to submit so fast, I would’ve thought I’d sort of hate the stud for caving so quickly. But the muscle torture angle of this confrontation is provoking me to a surprising degree, and MMK’s relentlessness paired with Damien’s speedy decision that he is in (quite literally) over his head captivates me.
This is one of MDW’s genre-straddling productions that runs the risk of leaving some of its intended audience feeling frustrated. There is some wrestling, but the space outside the tub is extremely limited, and the range of combat that can happen inside a hot tub is somewhat abbreviated as well. The physicality is almost entirely devoted to choke fans, as MMK’s hands are wringing Damien’s neck non-stop. Those with a drowning fetish (not me, but I’m not judging) will also find the action inside the tub a pleasure. Looking for hot, hairy muscleboys straining and flexing? Check. But if your core fetish is a couple of hunks in a pro-wrestling ring bouncing off the ropes, flying off the corners, and scooping and slamming the fuck out of each other, this will be, at best, kink adjacent. What the match lacks in scope, however, it makes up for in intimacy. The lighting is surprisingly good for the limitations of the setting, and the camera man has got to be plastered to a wall, the view is so extremely up close.
“Too intense for you?” MMK asks Damien as the gasping hunk is sputtering and choking water out of his lungs. Damien worries that MMK’s real design is to literally kill him. It’s not a snuff bit, so don’t worry (or, sorry to disappoint, however it is you take the news). Damien is still alive by the end of the 16 minute session. Unconscious, sure, but alive, as MMK flexes over top of him, water dripping of his beefy bod as he explains that everything is an object lesson, and this lesson is for anyone who dares to defy him when he makes a move to take anything (ANYTHING) that may appear to belong to someone else.
Me? I’ve got a thing for wet musclemen. So despite Damien’s hot bod being submerged in water (and thus out of sight) for most of the session, there’s enough hot, hairy, handsome man meat on display to stroke that side of me that gets a little weak in the knees at glistening, soaked studs. What would have topped this off with a cherry would have been Damien subserviently bathing his muscle master (with or without his tongue… I’d have been okay either way). But there’s a bluntness about MDW that remains true in Zzzzzzz 3. The homoeroticism is primarily what you and I bring to the viewing, though the impulse to film two hunks having it out in a hot tub is, quite obviously, pitched our direction.