Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month

We’re well into the month, so it’s about time I settled down and made the tough call as to who should be the new homoerotic wrestler of the month around here. For those of you just tuning in, I pick the wrestler who, appearing in a homoerotic wrestling match over the prior month, turned me on most. As always, this could go in many directions this time around, but based on recurring roles in my sweat soaked erotic dreams, there’s one particular hunk who worked me hardest and stayed with me longest.  The new reigning HWOTM is…

 

 

 

 

 

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Matt “Marcus the Gladiator” Thrasher.

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In Muscle Domination Wrestling’s September Release “Gladiator,” Thrasher makes his sophomore appearance with the company and, as far as I know, in the world of homoerotic wrestling. Similar to his debut role as the stern disciplinarian bear daddy in Daddy’s Home, Thrasher’s role as Marcus the Gladiator is that of a hyper masculine, scorching hot, fiercely dangerous muscle fighter. Unlike in Daddy’s Home, however, in Gladiator Marcus is chattel to the upper class elite who buy and sell him.  His reputation in the arena is as unconquerable champion, but when a rich boy purchases him and gets his hands all over that hot body, Marcus’ bitter, barely contained contempt pulses off of the screen.

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I’ve already reviewed Gladiator, so I’ll try not to retrace my steps, but I will say that this scenario captures in a novel way the power and beauty of erotic seduction wedding intimately with muscle combat. Hunky Matt plays the raging warrior boiling just beneath the surface in a delightfully engaging way.  As he permits his more diminutive title holder to dominate him, push him around, feel him up and down and up again, the champion of the arena bristles and flexes, but submits his hotly muscled body to his owner’s whims.  The subtext is clearly that hardbodied Matt could pummel the aristocratic youngster into dust, but he knows his place, he knows the consequences of open disobedience, and he permits the hungry young blue blood to quite literally walk all over him.

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But here’s where the drama gets really interesting, because the rich boy who possesses his papers and fondles every inch of luscious Matt Thrasher intentionally provokes and prods the muscled gladiator.  He lords over the beast of burden with relish, but he weaves an intoxicating spell of physical domination, erotic manipulation, and a good old fashion mind fuck that makes the massively muscled gladiator vacillate between preening cockily and stewing furiously, spilling over with blood lust but then just spilling over with astonished, pure lust.

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The young/old, big/bigger, blue collar/aristocrat contrasts are played as skillfully as masked Morgan pumps Matt’s organ to a sweat soaked, climactic crescendo. Matt sells his genuine surprise at being manhandled by the little rich boy, and that big, juicy cock sells even more convincingly just how aroused this muscle domination session is for him.  With that salt-and-pepper beard and big, juicy pecs, I get a strong whiff of Joe Manganiello, and regular readers of this blog and my wrestling fiction know just how mind-blowing that comparison is for me. Whatever you think of the likeness, I argue that big Matt has a look and a persona that make him one of the most unique and, for my money, engaging athletes in the homoerotic wrestling scene today.

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Masked Morgan casts his spell so subtly, so seductively, that hardbodied Matt doesn’t quite realize the point at which he crosses the line from indulging his audacious new master to being truly and completely owned, body and soul, by the erotic master who works him into a pliant mountain of glistening muscle stroking his rod like a marathon runner. Honestly, the jack off scene lasts for ages, not because Matt is having any trouble whatsoever keeping it up, not because there are awkward editing cuts and camera angles, but just because Matt Thrasher is quite obviously a thoroughbred, aged to perfection, with a phenomenal endurance to milk every groaning ounce of ecstasy from being molded like clay in the hands of an erotic master. Spread eagled there in the middle of the ring, Morgan cranking on those nipples, grinding his crotch into Matt’s back from behind, whispering sweet words of total domination in his ear, Matt cums.

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And as Morgan flexes in victory from behind, the look of shocked pleasure that washes across Matt’s handsome face is priceless. “You are definitely my master,” the champion of the arena gasps, stating what is obvious for everyone to see. He’s been tamed and turned and there’s no turning back now.  Kudos to Morgan for more than ably selling this story on his end, but it’s the conquered gladiator, the handsome alpha male erotically convinced to fall into line, the beauty and muscles of Matt Thrasher become consumed by the master that haunts my fantasies now.  Nice work, Matt. Hope to see much, much more of you!

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