The release of BG East’s 3rd installment of their summer catalog #103 sent my heart racing. In particular, the Florida Fights 5 compilation grabbed my attention by the balls with a line up of wrestlers directly out of several of my fondest fantasies. Nipple-tastic Mason Brooks stepping into the ring for the first time, facing sunsetting HWOTM jobber extraordinaire Ty Alexander is all sorts of titillating. The promise of one of the most gorgeous muscle men in competition, Tyrell Tomsen, throttling the fuck out of Jobe Zander’s mammoth “Centerpiece” just leaves me breathless thinking about it. One of my all-time favorite wrestler emeritus, Mitch Colby shoving underwear model Rio Garza’s face hard and often into his hungry crotch is enough, all on its own, to make me spot my trousers with pre-cum just writing this sentence. But I honestly did not know what I was missing in life before I got a chance to spend time with my remote control and the climactic final match in this compilation, starring Logan Vaughn’s gargantuan, hairy quads and Trey Dixon’s tongue.
I was first in line to savor Logan’s debut with BG East not long ago, facing off against juggernaut heel Lane Hartley in Hunkbash 15. I’d hoped for more of a contest back then, but as you might imagine, big Lane ripped Logan apart with his signature heartlessness. Logan was outclassed from start to finish, to put it mildly. Always one to ache for the thrill of competition, I was yet enthralled by the site of Logan, as green as can be, get the living shit beat out of him by one of the most seasoned, physically dominant, ice cold heels currently in the business. The unwritten rules of pro wrestling that I wish homoerotic pro lived within the confines of a little more still today include the juicy nugget that the hottest, prettiest, beefiest newbies to show up in the ring must, under any and all circumstances, get trashed like my used kleenex. For the hot homage to classic babyface initiation brutality, and to get to see Logan’s sensational ass and, have I mentioned his fucking fabulously huge thighs, in the BG East ring, I was a happy camper.
After watching his sophomore appearance in Florida Fights 5, I fucking need a water bottle a smoke! I’m on record as being completely infatuated with Oscar-statue-come-to-life Trey Dixon, Logan’s opponent. There are a multitude of reasons Trey absolutely owned the title of HWOTM for his December 2014 new release Gear Wars 4. Now 8 months later, there’s this instant chemistry that starts titrating as soon as Trey climbs into the ring and faces the vision in green that is Logan Vaughn. They trade verbal barbs, but you can cut the sexual tension with a hatchet. Both super hot boys like what they see. I like what they see. Both of them can’t tear their attention away from Logan’s epic quads. He promises that he’ll use those humungous tree trunks to milk the last drop of cum and tears from Trey. Okay, he doesn’t actually say “cum and tears,” but I’m not exaggerating when I say that there’s one self-evident truth seconds into this match: whatever is about to happen, it’s going to be all about Logan’s luscious legs.
For many wrestling fans, the epiphany in this match is the sensationally sexy muscle worship that overcomes beautiful Trey not just once, not even merely twice, but on three separate occasions in this confrontation. For some reason, it takes me by surprise the first time one of the most erotic wrestlers in the business reaches up and breathlessly strokes Logan’s divine body. Had you been a fly on the wall here in chez Bard, you’d have heard me mutter with equal measures of shock and awe, “Oh, fuck yes!” Each of the 3 muscle worship moments is a plot point. The first happens relatively early on after Logan has demonstrated he can drive Trey to delirium the moment any part of the lean stud’s body gets trapped between his massive thighs. He commands Trey to remove his knee pads, which I swear to the homoerotic wrestling gods, he’s reading my mind as I desperately want to see the huge bulging heads on his superb quads. Trey obeys, his hands suddenly unable to resist touching every inch of the muscle god. The veteran appears rapt in primal lust and awe, slowly traversing Logan’s muscles from front to back. But suddenly, the stubborn stud exploits the moment to snap on an ambush full nelson.
Muscle worship session #2 occurs after Trey has accumulated a bit of riding time, merely to be crushed and humiliated again, and again, and again by Logan’s hairy, sweaty (have I used the adjective “titanic” yet?) thighs. He’s submitted repeatedly, each time with less fuel left in his tank. Finally, he’s on nothing but fumes, staring up at his new dazzlingly beautiful god. He slowly crawls to his knees and begins to worship again. “Yeah, worship those muscles,” Logan commands. Trey obeys. “You wish you were this powerful. You wish you were this strong.” Trey licks the sweat from those stunning, hairy thighs. His tongue traces upward until his mouth envelops the hefty bulge hanging heavily in Logan’s pouch. You can see that Logan likes it, but like the divine taskmaster he is, he just silently lifts his arms and flexes his beautiful biceps, wordlessly willing his worshipper to adore every magnificent muscle. And Trey does, that sexy tongue licking up Logan’s ribcage, caressing his sweaty armpit, sampling those peaked biceps, and slowly traversing down Logan’s muscled back. It’s Trey biting Logan’s fantasyman ass that really sets off fireworks for me. Not hard, just genuinely, lustfully ravenous to taste this muscle Messiah’s flesh on his tongue in reverent homoerotic wrestling sacrament.
This is some of the finest wrestling muscle worship I’ve ever seen, mind you. But as hot as it is, I have to say that the wrestling itself raises the bar even higher for me. It’s as if, having been so outmuscled and outclassed in his debut drubbing, Logan is pedaling down hill all the way with this smaller, relatively less experienced opponent who so obviously craves to be bent to a muscle god’s will. Both boys sell like champs, which isn’t such a revelation for Trey, but absolutely thrills me to no end with regard to Logan. The fabulous pornboy turned wrestler exploits his pride and joy tree trunks with holds I’ve never seen before and if I ever see again, will always remind me of Logan. Standing head scissors with Trey’s legs suspended from the middle turnbuckle are so completely dominating. Later, with Trey’s arms tied in the ropes, Logan somehow manages to wrap his opponent’s legs around his own colossal right leg and apply a suspended figure-4 leg lock that makes Trey scream in a panic. Logan doesn’t just convincingly dominate, he communicates beautifully a carnal delight in both delivering and witnessing this phenomenal beatdown of a ripped, hot stud like Trey.
“Yeah, bitch,” Logan sneers, “don’t mess with the muscle!” But of course, that’s precisely what Trey is here to do. That’s exactly what I’m tuning in to admire. “Love the pain!” he barks in his opponent’s face, nearly making Trey’s face disappear between his inner thighs in an epically long crotch-to-face head scissors. “I like to watch you struggle,” Trey’s new master explains. And Trey obliges over and over and over.
Logan eventually knocks him the fuck out. He flexes, his soaked body glistening underneath the lights. Here and now, he owns this ring. And he most definitely owns Trey Dixon. “Come on,” he barks as Trey blinks back to consciousness, struggling to get his bearings. “You’ve got some more muscle worshipping to do!” Trey’s god commands, whistling him over like a lap dog. Trey obediently crawls on his hands and knees, obeying his master’s voice, drawn by the gravitational pull of the magnificent muscles flexing in the middle of the ring. On his knees yet again, he squeezes, strokes, licks…
Um, if you can’t tell, I love this match. A lot. To say I highly recommend it is an under-statement.