It’s been a while since I’ve settled in with a Thunder’s Arena match, but several promos and teasers from their new releases have been grabbing my attention hard. My first toe dipped back in the Thunder’s pool was sampling seriously big, beautiful, hairy Wolf.
“So this is the big bad wolf, right here,” Braden Charron checks out the rookie. “That’s right,” Wolf replies, just a little awkwardly, with just a slight tinge of stage fright in his voice. “You’ve got size. Some good definition,” Braden concedes. But the veteran muscle hunk is leaving so much more unsaid. Wolf is visually striking. Thunder’s promotes him as 5’11, 225 pounds. And those numbers, too, don’t come close to describing this handsome stud. The full beard, receding hairline, tastefully but not aggressively groomed body hair all over his torso, even a light coat across this bulging traps and upper back, place this rookie in the hyper-masculine end of the homoerotic wrestling pool.
His massive muscles do as well. His pecs are incredibly thick, meaty, and astonishingly separated. His armored core screams out for a load of laundry, and from behind, his back tapers gorgeously into a tiny waist placed aesthetically atop incredibly, massively, beautifully built glutes. Honestly, a hiker could get lost for days in those mountains! His thighs are proportionally thick and powerful, and then there’s the most prominent bulge of all, his cock and balls cinched up tight and pulled slightly away from this body by that particular style of pouch-accentuating square cut trunks. Delightfully, the rookie can’t seem to keep his hands off his protruding crotch. He seems somehow both slightly distracted by the push-up pouch and, at the same time, thrilled by it. He persistently gives it gentle tugs. He delicately cups his balls absent-mindedly in the middle of posing, wrestling, and even as he’s being sleepered out cold near the end of the match. Top to bottom, Wolf checks off all the boxes in a made-to-order fantasy man gladiator.
Braden has been a fixture in most corners of the homoerotic wrestling scene for what seems like a long time now. From his early days as a Randy Blue cam boy, Braden has come (and cum) a long way. These days, I’ve seen him most often cast as a seasoned, albeit narcissistic muscle pro who has picked up enough experience to be a serious competitor. Personally, I think I like him better as a dumbstruck physique star who can’t quite believe how easily his enthusiastic opponents take delighted possession of every inch of his mouthwatering body. In his Thunder TV confrontation with Wolf, Braden isn’t a heel, by any means. Through some rough scene cuts, he slowly ends up in the driver’s seat, though, muscle bullying the hypermasculine rookie with authority. He comes across to me a stern tutor, taking the inexperienced newbie to task relentlessly, doing his best to tip the scales of justice toward experience and beauty. An unwritten rule written in the pro wrestling stars is that pretty rookies must pay their dues. Hot, hairy, hunky Wolf is just pretty enough under all that hair to have to suck down some humbling from the veteran here.
The star of the show for me, however, (other than Wolf’s phenomenally meaty ass) is the hairy rookie’s newborn homoerotic wrestling character. That initial awkwardness I sensed when Braden strolled onto the mat is quickly replaced by an aggressive, hungry, baby heel attitude that thrills me. As Braden condescendingly gives him muscle posing pointers, Wolf slides in from behind and locks on a luscious full nelson to interrupt the veteran’s lat spread. “You’re too slow!” the chuckling muscle rookie crows. “You’ve been around too long! It’s time for me to take care of the competition.”
Just to drive home the point that Wolf is a baby heel at birth, he delivers a completely unnecessary rake to his opponent’s eyes. He smirks and struts, happy as fuck to hear his bodybuilder opponent grunt and strain against the rookie’s bigger body. Wolf likes the hurt. He enjoys the control. He somehow swells bigger and badder as he swarms all over the smooth, beautiful veteran’s muscles. Thunder’s says there’s only 3 inches difference in height, but fuck it if the big, bad wolf doesn’t completely dwarf the gorgeous, muscled Ken doll under his spell.
A minute in, and I’m hooked on Wolf. Cockily, he lets his prey go and flexes his gargantuan guns, consciously turning his back on his dangerous opponent, confidently challenging the popular muscle boy to try to reach up (up, up) and just see if he has the height to cinch on a full nelson, the legitimate muscle to maintain the hold, the fucking balls to enter the fray again with this sensational newbie.
Like I said, Braden’s learned a few things in his years of getting his bubble butt beat. He slaps on a side headlock and cranks hard, dragging the rookie to his knees. He absolutely milks it, like he’s trying to squeeze a glass of orange juice out of Wolf’s skull. The veteran chides the newbie for celebrating too soon, for strutting too boldly, for sticking his dick out too far. And telegraphing absolutely nothing at all, Wolf jabs his fist hard into Braden’s low hanging balls!
Oh, fuck, yes. The rookie doesn’t just trash talk, either. He narrates. “You gotta be careful,” he offers the veteran some unsolicited advice. “You got too comfortable,” he smirks.
I assume this match will be released in its entirety at some point, but what’s on Thunder’s TV cuts awkwardly to a bearhug challenge. More precisely, to Braden locking on a deep, hard bearhug on the hirsute hottie. Whatever the lack of choreography, I can see why this had to happen, and why the TV version quickly cuts to this hold: because Wolf’s ass is mind blowing! Captured, suspended, his lower back slightly arched in agony, those sensational, massive mountains of gluteus muscle take my breath away. As strong as Braden is, he clearly reaches exhaustion and flings the rookie to the mat. A few seconds to catch his breath, though, and he scoops Wolf back up in his arms, the rook’s prominent pouch sandwiched tightly against Braden’s lower abs.
The remainder of the cut and paste clips are of Braden completely in control, Wolf with nothing left to offer even the most minimal defense. The rookie’s bulging muscles sweat and glint beneath his fur. I get the impression he’s meant to be a vision of cocky muscle made impotent, but even in utter defeat, I’m not quite buying it. Braden struggles to hoist the huge beast across his shoulders, and even as wide as Braden’s boulder shoulders are, Wolf just looks like too much man, too much muscle, just fucking too, too much for me to believe that he’s completely tagged and bagged.
Braden lifts the wasted newbie upside down, squeezing Wolf’s skull between his knees, holding him there a couple of sweet seconds before delivering a piledriver. The top of the rookie’s head hits the mats. All of that magnificent, hairy muscle flops down, twitches a little, and then lies still. Braden flexes in victory overtop of the felled Wolf, but my eyes are riveted on the hairy beast flat on his back.
I’m lighting a candle, burning some sage, and pouring out a shot of whiskey in offering to the homoerotic wrestling gods in prayerful hope of several things for young, handsome, hairy Wolf. First, I’m hoping that as soon as I can get my hands on his tussle with Rough & Ready 59, I will discover that last month’s homoerotic wrestler of the month, Marco, brings the sexy right out of the tantalizing rookie. Second, I’m praying that Wolf will grow into a full fledged muscle heel someday with a lust for explicit, sexual domination. And third, and closely related, I’m pleading to get to see Wolf’s ass unleashed, to see that epic physique in all it’s glory wrestling naked, to see every last inch of this hypermasculine gladiator bearing down like a force of nature on some lucky son of a bitch who will pay for the mistake of facing down this beast by enthusiastically and unapologetically worshiping every hairy bulge.