I hope I get to celebrate Cameron Matthews birthday every year, because this year, for his birthday, he sent me a present. Knowing full well of my infatuation with Lon Dumont, Cameron dropped me a sneak preview of Lon’s first ever oil wrestling match, and asked, in exchange, if he could use some of my words about the match to help promote it on his website.  Pretty much everything after he said “Lon oil wrestling” was mostly just noisy static in my ears, but nevertheless, I did spend some delightfully intimate time appreciating Lon and his opponent, rocking Charlie Panther, wrestling in baby oil. I agreed to let Cameron use whatever part of my write up he found useful to help promote the sales of the match.  You can, and should, check out his website to see which part of the following he decided to use…

“Smells good, feels good,” Lon murmurs rubbing his ripped, smooth bodybuilder physique all over with baby oil. Looks fucking amazing, too, I’d like to add. Dressed in just a towel after stepping out of the steam room, the wrestler-turned bodybuilder (and back again) treats his phenomenal anatomy with the love and admiration it so well deserves. That’s right, fans of glistening, hardbodied muscle hunks, pull out your own bottles of baby oil and prepare to lather up, because there’s nothing quite so provocative as a competition bodybuilder in stunning condition luxuriating in applying a deep, thick coat of baby oil.

Well, perhaps one thing more provocative is a second hardbodied wrestler with an expansive ego and a sudden, jealous need for skin care that only a bottle of baby oil can provide. Charlie Panther steps out of the sauna and asks Lon to share. Teasingly, Lon rubs some oil into Charlie’s bulging right pec. “I like the way you get deep into the crevices,” Charlies groans, his eyes fluttering under Lon’s touch. Lon concedes to thoroughly apply a fresh coat to Charlie’s right arm as well. But no more, Lon insists. He’s got way too many mouthwatering muscles of his own to lubricate. “And I’ve got big night planned for this baby oil,” Lon discloses with a wink.

“If you don’t share that baby oil with me now, those big plans you have are going to change!” Charlie demands, grabbing for Lon’s cylinder and chasing the taunting bodybuilder into the nearby ring. Suddenly, Lon nestles the bottle against his crotch and squeezes, squirting Charlie in the face. “Sometimes that happens to me,” the bodybuilder smirks, “I get a little too excited and it comes out early.”

The towels comes off to reveal beautiful speedos suctioned to the phenomenal asses of these two seasoned wrestlers. Quickly, playground shoving turns into full contact combat to subdue and take possession of the coveted bottle of lubricant. But despite long resumes of pro wrestling experience, there’s nothing quite like trying to apply a hold to a powerful body slathered in oil. They swarm all over each other, quickly slipping and crashing to the mat, sliding and slithering across each other’s struggling bodies to figure out how secure a hold and, even more difficult, maintain it.

When Charlie manages to nearly choke his selfish opponent out entirely, he grabs the bottle, strokes it furiously pressed against his crotch and explodes all over his opponent who’s just beginning to clear his head. “Oh yeah, all over your back,” the black hunk groans ecstatically, rubbing the fresh coat of lubricant into Lon’s muscles. But a seasoned heel like Lon is almost never too dazed to know precisely how to suck the momentum out of a rising opponent by delivering a swift, hard strike to his balls.

The balance of power in this battle of the bottle of baby oil teeters back and forth, and both determined hunks unquestionably enjoy the feel of well-lubricated, intimate combat. They steal secret strokes of their own and each other’s glistening muscles. As they both insinuate that the bottle is a proxy for their own ample endowments, it can hardly be described as “innuendo” that coming out on top is on both of their minds. Blown holds sabotaged by too little friction keep the coveted cylinder passed back and forth as every inch of skin and modest fabric is entirely and liberally dripping with oil. But there’s just one shiny, muscled hunk who manages to put his competition out for good in order to stroll from the ring with baby oil in hand, promising to dedicate his abundantly lubricated “big night” to his vanquished foe.

Deeply provocative, relentlessly tempting and taunting, lubricated muscles and raging egos make this gorgeous oil wrestling match sensationally sexy. I highly recommend you take a long shower, relax in the sauna a while, and then pull out your own supply of lubricant as you settle in to enjoy this new release from the sizzling hot mind of the most prolific personality in homoerotic wrestler, Cameron Matthews!