Context, please. Backstory. Character motivation. Story arc. One through line across my years of blogging has been harping on “the story” in homoerotic wrestling. I know I’m not alone. The publicly released custom bouts several companies have produced frequently hinge on more than just two hot bodies. They’re filled with gimmicks and plot twists and grudges and appeals to specific kinks, suggesting to me that I’m definitely not the only one that wants something more narrative than just two guys pro wrestling. It’s one thing to film two hot bodied athletes delivering pro wrestling moves in an otherwise empty garage. It’s something else, and something much more compelling, to tell a story with it. When there just isn’t any context, the burden is on us, the consumer, to make sense of why two pretty boys would go through the motions of acting out what would, in real life, be potentially crippling offensive maneuvers on each other.
I’ve written some match descriptions for marketing homoerotic wrestling. I’ve taken the liberty at times to narrate something that didn’t make it on camera. I’ve never tried to mislead potential consumers. My sincerest goal is never to imply anything that isn’t evident or abundantly implied in the match. I just amplify, fill in details, speak to intrinsic motivations that are entirely consistent with, if not explicitly spelled out, in the video document. I watch about 10 times more matches for my personal entertainment than what I write for publishing as marketing material, and sometimes – a lot of times – I wonder to myself, but why is this happening?
I settled in just this morning to appreciate two of my recent crushes, Zach Reno and Alex Oliver, mixing it up for Cameron Matthew’s Wrestler4Hire. The match description should have been a warning to me. “When Alex Oliver ties up with Zach Reno, there are no pretenses. No claims of superiority. No nonsense. Just two ripped and rambunctious rasslers doing what they do best.” In other words, no context.
On this blank slate of Alex and Zach going head to head in the ring is a sensational wrestling clinic put on by hot, hairy, entirely dominant Zach. On the topic of differentials, Zach stands a full half a foot shorter than baby smooth hunk Alex, and the little guy rips him apart from start to finish. Zach terrorizes him. It’s one long uncut take, which is a sensational novelty in this business in and of itself. And Zach kicks Alex’ marvelous ass every fucking which way and loose for 20 minutes.
I’m into it, mind you. About 7 minutes in, Zach breaks his awkward silence and generously offers, “I can kick your ass some more, or we can call it even.” But, wait… what? Call it even? Call what even? What’s the context here? Why did they start this match? Why is Zach offering to walk away and “call it even?” What did Alex owe him that 7 minutes of totally humiliating corporal punishment makes “even?” Wait. What?
“Fuck you,” Alex spits back. Huh? I mean, maybe he’s bitter for getting completely schooled by a hot little pro a half a foot shorter. Maybe? Maybe he’s snarling obscenities at his opponent (from flat on his back, gasping for air, and choke/weeping from his 6th or 20th submission he’s just given away) because Zach called him a pro wrestling wannabe pussy about 5 minutes before they charged into the ring to settle whether Alex is just a pretty pretender. But, wait, no, the match description says there’s no pretense. No context.
This match still gets me off. The warm up act is Alex Oliver’s ass. I’ve made considerable hay about Alex’ infinitely fuckable ass before. Now more than ever I’m promoting the hashtag #AlexOliversAssForPresident. His whole body is a work of art, of course. His meaty thighs, incredibly narrow waist, ripped abs, gorgeous, bulging shoulders. Someone who appreciates Alex’ aesthetics even half as much as I do has GOT to wrestle this stud, because I would donate a kidney to watch an opponent take him on for the sheer erotic thrill of possessing that body and planting a flagpole between those fantastic cheeks. But, that would be character motivation. That would be pretense.
Zach is pretty fucking amazing to watch working his craft like a master, but his bare handed chokes punch some buttons in me hard. I’ve been fixated on bare handed chokes for exactly two weeks now. Watching him throttle a ripped hunk a half a foot taller is damn compelling all on its own. He doesn’t need to get that nasty, of course. His bodyscissors, headscissors, Boston crab, camel clutch, abdominal stretch, full nelson, OTK backbreaker, dragon sleeper, and abdominal claw have, each and every one, pried weeping, choking submissions out of Alex. There’s no real reason for him to need to threaten to actual strangle this kid, but he does, and I’d love to know what drives Zach in that moment to be dissatisfied with completely owning Alex and so suddenly raging into bare handed strangulation. But that would be pretense.
I’m picking on Wrestler4Hire now. But I do want to point out what’s missing before I finish by clarifying that this match gets me off. When Zach suddenly wipes the very real sweat off his brow (remember, no cuts, so that’s real sweat) and then flings it in Alex’ face, sweet fuck, that’s sexy. When Alex screams “You’re going to rip me in half!,” there’s something incredibly erotic about the genuine sound of panic in his voice. Zach is a bottle of ultra concentrated bad ass, and Alex is a barefoot, babyface hero who calls to mind the likes of a young Kevin Von Erich. And like Kevin, Alex has that headliner ass that someday, somehow, under one pretense or another, we have GOT to see laid bare.