I’ve heard the same rumors that the BG East match description mentions. BG East wrestlers consistently rank Christian Taylor as one of their favorites. I’ve heard him described as an upright guy, earnest, engaging, and (astonishingly) even more attractive in person than he is on camera. I’m not really sure how that last is possible, because his movie star good looks are off the charts. His body is magnificent. His long, lean frame and graceful lines make me think of fashion models. You could cut class on those cheekbones, and clearly he’s one of those angels graced with long, thick black eyelashes that always make him look like he wears mascara. It looks like there’s a growing consensus that the classic Sean Patrick’s title as BG East’s top kisser has finally been passed along to those sweet, sexy lips of Christian. I haven’t seen every one of his approximately 25 BG East matches yet, but I would hazard a guess that a solid majority of them involve face sucking.
So when Christian stars in a stand alone Wet & Wild release against a dashing young slice of furry beef, I want overnight shipping. There’s this subtle, tense moment right at the beginning of the DVD when smoking hot newbie Calvin Haynes strolls out onto the pool deck at the BGE Florida compound to find Christian stretched out, eyes closed, soaking in the sunshine. Calvin just stands there, looking down at all 6’2″ of Christian. Christian is so fucking pretty, there’s something honest about the idea that he could stop a big muscle hunk in his tracks like that. The rookie makes no bones about it. Like so many BGE wrestlers, he’s into Christian hard, from the start, flirtatiously and assertively. The sight of Christian’s beauty turns him on effortlessly. Seriously, before Christian ever realizes that he’s getting checked out, Calvin is all in.
I’m on the record being highly ambivalent about pool wrestling. The “wet” part of Wet & Wild 8 is no exception. On the one hand, anywhere from 50% to 100% of these gorgeous wrestlers is underwater and out of sight at any one time. Particularly when it comes to Calvin, I fucking want to check the fresh meat out. Particularly what Christian refers to as “those fucking tree trunks” and Calvin’s lush, muscle hard bubble butt deserve a lot better angles than we get when the boys are dunking and diving.
On the other hand, wet, glistening muscles make me swoon. Christian and Calvin frequently drag each other over to the pool stairs for long, hard, grunting scissors and full nelsons, pulling each other most of the way out of the water and giving us hot glimpses of captured muscle. Sure enough, Calvin’s hot, massive quads get their official coming out shining in the Florida sunshine, flexed and crushing the lean veteran and earning that “fucking tree trunks” comment. There’s also a tantalizing focus on Christian’s legendary abs, when he’s propped his elbows on the side of the pool, sunning himself tantalizingly as he takes a tan break after wringing a submission out of the rook. In fact, Calvin can’t stop himself from wide-eyed, slack jawed muscle worship with the chlorinated water flooding the deep, sexy valleys of Christian’s abdominals. It’s open adoration in his voice when the newbie groans “abs of steel,” needing no subject or verb in that sentence to convey the obvious, open faced lust distracting him from the competition part of the story. And then, like there’s nothing else one can do with a washboard like that, the newbie clenches his fist and starts pounding the shit out of him.
Calvin rides the momentum of all that muscle like the cocky hunk he clearly is. Even Christian acknowledges that the new guy possesses a decisive size and strength advantage, and he works some hot bullying action on the legendary kisser. When Christian can exploit his longer limbs and extensive wrestling experience, he controls the pace and works the advantage. But when Calvin snaps him up in those hot, bulging, tatted arms and squeezes, Christian gets all locked up and sucks on the agony so sweetly.
But like so many rookies before him, Calvin mistakes winning a battle for winning the war. He struts and flexes in victory. He turns his back, showing off that marvelous, meaty ass, and flexes his biceps, silently demanding the veteran give credit to his superior strength. And like the savvy, level headed veteran he is, Christian locks him up with a chin lock and hangs him out to dry, stretched across his back. Finally, we get to see serious, soaking wet, tanned, hot skin!
I think the sweetest moment is when Christian scoops the muscle newbie up across his shoulders and, like a nasty pool bully, laughs as he dunks Calvin’s face repeatedly underwater, demanding the hottie submit. Watching a big muscle hunk bullied relentlessly and commandingly by a lean, long pretty boy is golden.
How many times have we seen wrestlers, so obviously into each other, battle it out in front of the camera and then disappear behind closed doors for the undocumented spoils of victory? When Christian grabs the muscle rookie by the hair and drags him out of the pool, saying, “We need to take this somewhere else. Come with me, big boy,” I think that we’re about to see that sexually frustrating fade to black. But the camera stays on as they start toweling each other off. Something is different here. They’re openly admiring and acknowledging each other’s hotness. Christian coos about the rook’s massive thighs. Calvin swoons over Christian’s competition ready swimmer’s body. The implication that they’re turned on by each other turns explicit, as they say just that. Fuck, yes.
The choice to keep this story pounding out on a bed inside the BG East compound makes me stand up and cheer. There’s more wrestling, and whereas I was bitching and moaning about the obscured vision of the bodies in the pool, holy fuck, the cameraman had to be on the bed with them, catching such incredibly up close and intimate angles as they squeeze and grind and pound and grind. And grind. And grind.
And speaking of inches. Sweet fucking Jeebus. Calvin and Christian swell to the occasion. There’s something unforced and organic about the gradual, subtle appearance of their erections straining the seams of their trunk crotches. We’ve all seen homoerotic wrestling where there’s an awkward camera cut and then suddenly the combatants go from flaccid to full mast in the blink of an eye. That’s just not the way these writhing beasts show up on screen in this match. The boys are just enjoying themselves that much. I buy every last second and every big, juicy inch of it.
The chemistry is sticky and sweet. The kissing is ferocious and eager. Those big, quivering rods stuffed to the rim of their trunks just keep grinding. There’s a brief cock fight, as the big leaguers swing their wood into each other, because, fuck, they’re so fucking excited. And they suck face with a genuine appreciation and hunger that almost makes me feel like a voyeur. Honestly, they knew that camera man was zooming in 5 inches from their hot, pounding bodies, right?!
To be clear, the trunks stay on. This isn’t a nudity product. But this is as explicit and erotic and fucking hot, hot, hot as it gets with those hard, swelling, raging erections staying under wraps, and yet fully engaged. Calvin is a seriously promising commodity on the scene. I love his look, and I love that he’s leading with his big, meaty cock fresh out of the gate in this sensational debut. And as for Christian, fuck. Once again, all that beauty woos and seduces and is woven seamlessly into a crazy hot erotic wrestling drama, with equal parts erotic and wrestling in perfect proportion.
2 thoughts on “Come with Me, Big Boy”
Wow. This didn’t stand out to me as I’m not the biggest fan of pool matches and the catalogue is full of great options. My mistake. Christian is cool, but Calvin looks stunning in that “Come with me, big boy!” image.