Asses Named

Congratulations to Stay Puft, who posted the best score for this week’s edition of Name That Ass! All of these glutes this week should be on your list of homoerotic wrestlers to watch. I own matches with all of these hot hunks, and they’re all cherished possessions. Now pull out your quizzes and let’s review the answers…
Ass #1 belongs to…
…the Z-Man, Zack Vazquez/Zack Johnathan… whatever you’d like to call him, I get the impression he’ll answer you.
It’s Thunder’s Arena wrestler Sebastian showing off the Z-Man’s moneymaker in a feet-off-the-floor bearhug in Battlespace 10. The Z-Man hasn’t always jobbed, but let’s face it, he’s jobbed more than his fair share. I’m glad to see in his recent debut with BG East that he’s got a little more to offer than just having his ass beat up and down and shown off from every angle. It is, indeed, a nice ass, though.
Ass #2 belongs to…
…BG East muscle god himself, Wade Cutler.
I was just talking about this proportionally perfect muscle god! Those pecs come in a close second place for my favorite Wade Cutler body part, but hands down, it’s that gorgeous ass that’s at the top of my list. Again, I say, Rod Duart in X-Fights 19 was one damn lucky rookie.
Ass #3 belongs to…
…legendary pornboy, Scott Randsome (aka Kurtus Beefcake).
Specifically, here he’s grinding his balls into still another legendary pornboy, Tom Katt for BG Enterprise’s Fantasy Fight 2. Tom has his eye, and hands, on Scott’s ass from the get-go, but the battle to determine who’s ass is getting fucked is far from a given. Fans of full contact muscle on muscle wrestling simply must own this match.

Ass #4 belongs to…
Steve did just a few matches for Can-Am, including this appearance on the mats and then in the oil (ah, Can-Am), in Czech Tag Team 2. He wrestled alongside of Sonny Markham, another musceboy extraordinaire, and they faced off against the titular Czechs, Jirka Kalvoda and Jarda Kolar. I’m more familiar with Steve’s more competitive work for On Top Wrestling, and his much, much less competitive wrestling for Sharpshooters. Damn, that’s one gorgeous golden blond man.
Finally, ass #5 belongs to…
…BG East bad boy classic, Jose.
You know you’re a bad ass when you only need one name to inspire fear. Here, Jose wrestles in one of the Paradise oil wrestling matches, up against The Lineman. Jose kicked ass all the time. Always. Satisfyingly. And his cock had its own zip code. Look at the sneer on that face, and then scroll back up and enjoy the ass again.
No shame if you didn’t score a perfect 100. It’s just a signal that you need to watch a lot more homoerotic wrestling. Enjoy your studies!

Name That Ass

You know the set up. Based on scant evidence, see if you can identify the homoerotic wrestlers to whom  these fine glutes belong. Never played before? You might want to take some practice quizzes first, just to bone up on wrestling asses. As always, I’ll post the answers tomorrow. The first person to identify all five wrestlers below before the answers are posted, in addition to the opponents in the matches pictured, will not only get bragging rights as teacher’s pet, but I’ll also write you a custom, made-to-order fictional homoerotic wrestling match. Today’s quiz is a theme set, comprised entirely of “classics,” iconic homoerotic wrestlers. This is an open-book quiz, so feel free to consult your notes. Let me know how you do by dropping your answers in the comments below or by sending me an email. Good luck!
Ass #1:
I’ve been hard on this homoerotic wrestling ass… so to speak. However, this wrestler is undeniably prolific, and indisputably gorgeous, and like it or not, he is, at the very least, a fixture, if not an icon, in homoerotic wrestling. 5’10”, 170 pounds, smooth, lickable skin… he’s appropriately very proud of his granite carved abs, which he enjoys dusting off dismissively after squeezing out a submission from his opponent. If it weren’t for that cheesy smirk that creeps across his face far too often, I’d be a bigger fan. But I’m liking his most recent work, and hoping that his quality of wrestling starts to elevate to the quantity of this wrestling. I figure even novices know this ass, but identifying his opponent will be the challenge for intermediate students of homoerotic wrestling asses.
Ass #2:
These gorgeous round cheeks have haunted my dreams. Really, I’ve had dreams starring this classic homoerotic wrestler, and they’ve been fantastically memorable.  He’s listed at 5’6″ and 165 pounds of aesthetically perfect muscle, but his proportions make him look a half foot taller than that, in my opinion. In addition to qualifying in my book as a muscle god, he was also a muscle jobber with a lot of personality. He always sold me convincingly the story of a cocky stud used to getting his way on looks and strength, astonished to discover himself on the bad end of a humiliating beating. He was wrestling an opponent here who was in his debut match (the opponent only tallied three matches in all). What a lucky, lucky boy to be initiated into homoerotic wrestling with this hunk’s cock crushed against your face!

Ass #3:
This homoerotic wrestling ass has provided me what must add up to years of entertainment (counting all the repeat viewings). Iconic as hell, this pornboy always rocked me. I remember seeing his ads in the back of muscle mags as a kid, selling his “workout and lifestyle” videos. At 5’10” and reportedly 202 pounds of big, thick muscle, when he slapped his balls down on top of this particular opponent’s nose, I was in heaven. I own this match. I love this match. Iconic muscle stud v iconic muscle god. Both of them snarling, humiliating, craving the opportunity to fuck the other one senseless. I think you can still find this product from the original distributor, or through a more prominent homoerotic wrestling company selling them these days. You can tell me either name under which he wrestled, and any of the multiple spellings of either name that I can find in print, and still get full credit.
Ass #4:

Iconic? in my mind, absolutely. I had a crush on this blond muscle boy the instant I saw him. I wasted way too much cash with my early introduction to porn-on-demand by watching and re-watching his Triple Play. This pornboy did quite a bit of “bi” porn, which speaks absolutely nothing to me. But his wrestling was hot, if only sometimes competitive. In the match pictured, he was in a tag team bout with another iconic muscle pornboy, facing off against some Eastern European phenoms (go ahead, name them all… show off a little). Most of the pics I can find from this match show someone’s hand squeezing this fine ass, which I totally understand.
Ass #5:
Does this ass look familiar? The gargantuan python stretching the fabric of his viciously wedgied trunks from the front could very well give this away. You’d be forgiven for not remembering the ass, in fact, due to the astonishing sight of this fantastic homoerotic wrestling hunk from the front, once the trunks come off, which they usually did. He’s listed at 5’10” and 174 pounds, but I think more memorable would have been the stats on his stunning cock (I’d guess 9 inches and 3 pounds). He was very productive in homoerotic wrestling, appearing in 17 or so matches. He was a nasty heel with a predilection for clawing at an opponent’s abs like pulling pork off the bone. The shiny sheen on the bodies in this pic should make it simple enough to narrow down the opponent… once you’ve identified the ass in question.
It’s all fun and games, so feel free to post what you come up with. I’m quick with praise and humiliate underperforming students only if that’s what they get off on. Good luck!

Bill of Goods

As I’ve made a lot of hay passing judgment on homoerotic wrestling matches and wrestlers, Kid Leopard’s words of caution from the BG East Headquarter’s discussion group frequently come to mind. KL has, on more than one occasion, cautioned commenters not to turn catty as we discuss wrestler’s bodies. The fine wrestlers who strip down and lock up for our entertainment are, in fact, real guys with bruisable egos, who don’t sign up to have every aspect of their physiques trashed and insulted. I think there is a relatively fine line, however. Let’s face it, the bodies are, themselves, major draws that make us tune in. As consumers, we pay up to be entertained, which in large part includes enjoying the appearance of wrestlers’ barely clad/unclad bodies. It’s hardly surprising that we have things to say about wrestler’s bodies. “His ass is hot,” and, “His ass is fat,” come from essentially the same observational position, and frankly they may both represent about the same quantity of charitable spirit. We buy a product, and therefore we feel entitled to treat that product, including the appearance of bodies, as objects available for us to critique. Still, with KL’s words playing in the back of my head like Jiminy Cricket, I try my best to stay on the respectful side of the fine line as I presume to comment on homoerotic wrestlers’ physiques.

With that preamble in mind, let me just ask you: is Naked Kombat’s new rookie, Cliff Jensen, what you’d characterize as a “muscle god?” NK’s text teaser to get you to click through to the match characterizes this pairing as, “Huge-dicked muscle god takes on sexy stud.” Sebastian Keyes is a scrappy little wrestler who fulfills my fantasy of what it would be like to see Seth Green in homoerotic combat.  I’m 100% certain that Sebastian is the “sexy stud,” and not the “huge-dicked muscle god.” Which means that Cliff Jensen must be the one NK is selling as the huge-dicked muscled god in this scenario.

At the risk of sounding catty, I don’t buy the line that Cliff Jensen is a muscle god. Huge-dicked, okay. But muscle god? Is this the physique of a muscle god?

Let me be absolutely clear. It’s not Cliff or his physique that I’m taking issue with. It’s the marketing mind, casting him as the huge-dicked muscle god, that I’m quibbling with. I’d wrestle Cliff in a heartbeat. I’d spank his sweet ass (he seems to like that), and I’d fuck him (he loses but tops from the bottom, so not sure if that says more about Sebastian or Cliff), and I’d count myself as very, very fortunate for the opportunity. I’m infatuated with Cliff’s ink, and in particular, his dragon tat across his right shoulder blade (watch for him in a future installment of Name That Tat!). At 6’3″, he’s a tall drink of water, and there’s no disputing that the boy is physically fit (despite getting winded early in his debut), carrying very little body fat. I hope that I’m not coming across as catty and insulting, because I think he’s a tall, sexy frat boy with plenty of potential. But I balk at characterizing Cliff Jensen as a muscle god.

I’m probably as culpable as anyone in over-ascribing godliness to certain homoerotic wrestling bodies. But when I wax hyperbolic about a physique, it tends to come from a place of nearly disbelieving awe. That body simply cannot be solely human. His face is too handsome. His proportions are too perfect. When it comes specifically to the characterization of “muscle god,” I tend to picture physique stars with slabs of beef hanging off of their skeletons like a meat locker. “Muscle god,” I think, requires competition bodybuilding quality muscle, thick, defined, a little freakish (though I reserve a whole different class of adoration for the “muscle freak“). I’m picturing the mountainously muscled Thunder’s Arena’s Conan, for example…

…or the inhumanly perfect aesthetics of classic BG East muscle man Wade Cutler

…or even the simply gorgeous, powerful, thick, hard, veiny awesomeness of Kid Brock.

I buy “muscle god” for a lot of homoerotic wrestling physiques, frankly. There are a lot of fine works of art wrestling out there with entirely worship-worthy bodies with more than an echo of divinity built in. But Cliff Jensen’s charm is just not cut from that cloth, I’d argue.

He’s pretty. His long and hunky. He likes his ass spanked hard, god damn it. And for all of that (along with the stunning body art), I’m a fan of the rookie. But “muscle god?”

I just don’t think so.

Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month

Ah, hell. The task of sorting through the potential homoerotic wrestlers of the month for March is paralyzingly difficult. Everywhere I turn, there’s another beautiful bauble catching my eye. Typically, I like to run down all the contenders, even those who I may not have seriously considered for the title, but who deserve an honorable mention. There are just too many honorable mentions to mention this month, so I’m giving you might top tier, March 2011 elite eight from which I made the very difficult call of who’s taking the title as my reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month. No one will be surprised to hear that Patrick Donovan is definitely a finalist, for his very sweet initiation of the Z-Man into the delights of BG East in Sunshine Shooters 4. Z-Man would have gotten one of those honorable mentions if I hadn’t felt so overwhelmed this month (though, I suppose I just honorably mentioned him). Equally unsurprising will be both Brook Stetson and Mitch Colby for their Sunshine Shooters face off. Holy hell that’s one hot, intense match. Kid Karisma slaps away a whole boatload of would-be honorable mentions with his freckled bulging bicep and fantastic victory celebration over Christian Taylor in Wet & Wild 5. Despite my incredulity toward Joe at Ringside at Skull Island for insisting that Ringwars 19 is the must-have collection of the year so far, I have to admit that Alexi Adamov secured his spot in my elite eight this month just as relentlessly as he secured Nick Naughton’s face trapped between Alexi’s sweaty thighs as he dangled from the rafters. I’m giving Naked Kombat’s DJ another very impressed nod into the final elimination round for his total mastery of Kyle Braun on March 23. Spot #7 in my elite eight I’m going to hand to Big Sexy from Thunder’s Arena for exactly three reasons: he’s big; he’s sexy; and he spends about 90% of camera time in No Holds Barred 6 with his hand wrapped around Z-Man’s balls. My final spot in my elite eight had belonged totally and solidly to Cameron Matthews for Can-Am’s Pro Bashed Triple Threat… until yesterday, when Rock Hard Wrestling came out at the very last second dangling Travis Storm in front of me, pounding a sweaty beat down on Chris Cox/Christian Taylor. The Southern boy with big teeth, a huge back tat, and a hot, fit body turns my eye yet again, and Travis slips in under the wire to be a finalist this month (especially for his fantastic final fall finish as he screams at Chris ferociously with the long and lanky one draped helplessly across his knee).

Damn, that is one fine stable of homoerotic wrestlers who all powerfully impressed me in their March new releases. Sending 7 of these hardbody hunks home seems somehow unthinkable. But you don’t pay me the big bucks to equivocate (I know, you’ve heard that joke before). After agonizing and sweating over this, pouring over match after match, exhausting myself with studying the fine, subtle details that require repeat viewing after repeat viewing, I’ve made my decision. It’s a first for my reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month title, in that it’s a 2-way tie. There’s just no way to give one of these boys the advantage. I simply have to name them co-holders of the reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month title:

I’ve already vetted their Sunshine Shooters 4 match extensively, and Joe has also taken a turn singing its praises. But you know me. I’m never at a loss for more words of wonder at a truly inspiring, crazy sexy homoerotic wrestling match.
Brook was a surprise to me. I’d never seen the big hunk of hairy muscle in action before, though I’ve marveled at him in still-frame plenty. His jaw is just too square, I thought. He looks too much like he’s been ripped off of a cigarette ad… or a Colt Model centerfold. I walked into this match with eyes for no one other than Mitch, who has long been a homoerotic wrestler title holder emeritus, regardless of where he happens to fall at any given time in my rankings. About 2 seconds after the pre-match stretch-n-flex starts, I’m enthralled with Brook. Like Mitch, I can’t help but find my eyes wandering back in awe at his hot body and commanding, nay, domineering presence before he even lays eyes on Mitch. He fills up a room, particularly a relatively compact Florida sunroom, with more than just his 5’11”, 240 pound body.

Despite my helpless awe in my initiation into the wonders that are Brook Stetson, Mitch quickly grabs me by the chin and demands the appreciation that he’s come to expect from me. This is Mitch in peak physical condition, tanned and toned, thick in all the right places, tight and narrow everywhere else. I could camp out for days on Mitch’s body and never grow tired of adoring his pecs, stroking his powerful thighs, licking his biceps (for starters)…

Faced with a mountain of a muscle man in front of him, Mitch looks vulnerable, which is the beginning of my crazy lust for Mitch to keep facing that fear, to keep getting outmuscled and tossed around by his heavier opponent, to keep getting twisted and pried and crushed and still keep coming back for more.

Intensity is the word that keeps coming up in relation to this match. The wrestling is intense and up close. The grunts and flexes and squeezes and crunches are intense. The stunningly hot bodies, with sweat dripping onto one another as they exchange riding time on top, is mesmerizing. This match is not about looking pretty or playing or horsing around or hamming it up (not that those things don’t have a charm). It’s not about choreography. It is about two big, hard hunks in intense muscle v muscle competition, with fantastically entertaining jock strap wrestling building to a climax of complete domination and hunk humiliation. Both Brook and Mitch equally make this my favorite homoerotic wrestling match this past month, so there’s just no way around it. Brook Stetson and Mitch Colby are tied for the title of homoerotic wrestler of the month.

A Knockout

Photographer Joe Oppedisano simply connects all the dots between wrestling/fighting and homoerotic kink. In addition to some sweet, tasty pics (look under photos/artistic/Knockout), you can also appreciate a “making of” the Knockout photo shoot, via Greenwood Cooper and downloadable via Queer Channels On Demand (QUOD), if you live somewhere quite a ways east of where I live. I can’t attest to the reliability of QUOD, so this isn’t me telling you lucky, lucky boys in the UK to unload some pounds with them (you probably know better than I do). I am, however, quite certain that Joe’s eye peering through the viewer of his camera is seeing exactly what I’m seeing.

The intensity and intimacy of combat is erotic. Period. Straighten it up all you want, but I just can’t bring myself to believe that the homoerotic kink is a late-comer to male combat sports. Joe’s art may shorten the distance between HBO pay per view fights and Naked Kombat, but I refuse to accept that anyone alive today suddenly invented the notion that hot, hard, sweaty men pounding, squeezing, and climbing on top of each other until one of them is flat on his back and begging for mercy is sexy. As. Hell.

Full contact, I’m on the record, is not as arousing and engaging as wrestling for my tastes. It’s not that the moment a big, blond hunk’s eyes roll into the top of his head, as the tatted bad ass cracks his shin across the side of his face, doesn’t make my blood pump in all the right places. It’s just over so quickly. I need a little time to savor it, to milk the moment (so to speak), to be moved by the suspense of pressure and leverage and endurance and domination. When one hunk can turn the lights out on the other in a split second, I have to worry that it’ll all be over and done with way, way too soon.

QUOD tells me that I live in the wrong part of the world to check out Knockout. This is just one more reason I need to move to the UK (along with Russell Tovey, the real Being Human, Ashley Ryder and Grapple 101).

The Sweet Spot

Wade Cutler v Phil Latini  – BG East’s X-Fights 15
In my interview with my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler – nonpornboy division, Lon Dumont, Lon mentioned that he typically doesn’t have to put a lot of strategic brainpower into destroying his “dim-witted” competition. If pressed, however, Lon says that he sometimes will choose to isolate a body part. Personally, I’m a big, big fan of a ringmaster chaining together move after move, all concentrating systematic, brutal, and incapacitating punishment on a singular body part. In particular, there’s something awfully hot about the unleashing of back torture that makes all the physical development of a muscle hunk completely useless. Sure, you can bench press a horse, but if you’re lower back is so compromised that you can’t endure the agony of standing up straight, those gorgeous, strong pecs and arms are just beautiful, yet pointless, accessories.
Cole Cassidy v Tarzan Tyler Reese – BG East’s Ringwars 11
Like Wade Cutler, simply gleeful (I always loved it when he laughed unselfconsciously when he had his opponent in a bad way) as he wraps up Phil Latini’s lower back like a twist tie, the lower back proves itself to be an awesome, vulnerable point of exploitation for seriously hot demolition. True, some muscle freaks can actually pack on shredded slabs of beef across their lower backs, but for most of us mortals, even in top physical condition, the lower back is a site of vulnerability. When your opponent has maneuvered you into position to crank your lower back folding in the wrong direction, you’re pretty much screwed. When he also delights in grinding his fist into quivering cords of traumatized muscle struggling to protect your lower spine, such as Cole Cassidy’s astonishing boston crab variation on loin cloth clad rookie jobber, Tarzan Tyler Reese, you’re seriously screwed.
Kid Leopard v Ken Decker – BG East’s Demolition 4
In thinking about this theme, I came across pics of Kid Leopard’s Demolition 4 decimation of muscle hunk Ken Decker.  KL is nothing if not the ringmaster of all ringmasters, and he illustrates to perfection the point of my post today. Let’s count the ways that KL, outweighed and outmuscled by hunky Ken, more than evens the playing field by isolating and absolutely pulverizing his opponent’s lower back. In the pic above, he KL looks like he’s nearly about to rip Ken’s head off of his neck, as his lower back is creased and pried at nearly a 90 degree angle in the opposite direction it’s built to bend.

I don’t know the actual sequence of this story, but let’s start with the direct approach. KL tosses the hardbody chest-first into the corner and pounds his knee into his back.

There’s the tried and true over the knee backbreaker to isolate the hunk’s lower back in a particularly delightful and humiliating fashion (always one of my favorites). Ken looks impressively bendable, but that’s no inoculation against incapacitating, prolonged back torture, now is it?
A camel clutch especially for the viewing audience cranks further on the square-jawed hunk, prying his upper back and shoulders as well as torturing the lower back, and just for good measure, a humiliating hair pull and knuckles to the temple. I love the look of fierce concentration on KL’s face here, right next to his exhausted, defenseless, nearly unconscious opponent’s face.

A fourth approach has KL grabbing hold of Ken’s right boot and left wrist and prying them upward in a nasty standing bow-and-arrow. If Ken had been doing his yoga, this might not have been quite as devastating as it looks like it was for him.

KL drops some more knees into Ken’s back to continue to weaken up the sweet spot, as Ken flails in agony on his stomach in the middle of the ring.

Here must be where Cole Cassidy learned it. KL locks up Ken’s legs underneath his armpits and folds the hunk backward. This was not the direction that the human torso was meant to bend. But a fist grinding deep into the muscle surrounding Ken’s spine breaks down the hunk’s core strength that much more. Again, look at the pain on the sweaty face of the catcher here.

Typically, from the last maneuver, an outmatched chump frantically reaches behind him to try to use his hands to protect his assaulted back. Always three moves ahead, KL happily snaps up captain america’s wrists and then leans back. This is nothing if it’s not art. The precision balance, KL’s face flushed with the effort, Ken’s face twisted in agony, and his lower back and shoulders pried starkly in the wrong direction… stunning athleticism, true, but aesthetically, this is art.

One helpless suspension hold is not enough, however. KL maneuvers the handsome one into still another variation, now facing backward, with Ken’s right knee stretched painfully around his own trapped left ankle, and his right ankle hooked between KL’s upper thighs. 
Back to the corner, KL traps Ken’s head between his thighs (look at how beet red Ken’s face is here!), and somehow manages to pry the hunk backward, locking his ankles underneath KL’s armpits. I’m going to have to buy this DVD to see how two bodies can manage to get into this position, because I simply can’t imagine it. However, the end result is still another fantastic example of isolating poor Ken’s lower back, creased and folded over on itself, with the hunk literally having absolutely no place to go.

Since we’re in the corner, and since KL is never shy of capitalizing on anything and everything at his disposal to torture his opponents, KL wracks Ken over the turnbuckle and ropes and pries the muscled hunk backward with a vicious tug on the hunk’s chin with KL’s right hand and on the hunk’s balls with KL’s left hand. Ken’s ass squeezed out the top of his trunks doesn’t hurt the aesthetics here, either. So many points of agony, but the relentless assault on Ken’s back is clearly the purpose of this, like every other, hold.

I believe that adds up to (at least) 11 ways that KL beats the living shit out of Ken Decker’s lower back. Damn, that’s hot. And once you’ve conquered a muscle boy and left him helpless and wasted on the mat, his back in too much agony to even try to roll over, then it’s time to reward yourself for a job very well done.

From start to finish, this is an awesome homoerotic wrestling plot told by a master. Relentlessness, small guy conquering the big guy with cunning and wits, more relentlessness mixed with a healthy pinch of merciless viciousness, and topped off with some ass humping, hair pulling, ear nibbling pleasure. Sweet.

In Love and War

For quite a while now, I’ve been nursing a fantasy of a wrestling tag team comprised of hot hunk lovers who get sexed up harder and harder for each other the more they dominate their opponents. The seed for this concept was planted by Tag Team Torture 2, in which both tag teams in match #2 signal that they’re partners in more than just the competitive sense of the word. Adorable Liam Ryan and daddy bruiser Brian Powers are as into each other as they climb into the ring as they are cockily confident in the outcome of the match. Brooklyn Bodywrecker climbs into the ring with his cub, Shane McCall, having tamed and claimed young Shane in leather dog-collared body and soul in Dark Knights 5. Both sets of teammates seem to grow hotter for each other the longer they hold the advantage in the match, culminating in BBW and Shane passionately making out in the center of the ring with Brian tied helplessly in the corner and Liam on his back as BBW force-feeds him Shane’s cock. Damn, I’d love to see more of this concept.
In the mean time, I’m left to my imagination, which inevitably turns to writing up my homoerotic wrestling fantasies in the form of fiction. Over the weekend, I posted a new team match in the Producer’s Ring, which continues the story of British beauty Sean Maguire as daddy-in-charge over his cub pack comprised of Scottish hunk Gerard Butler and Henry Cavill.
To my reckoning, Sean bit and clawed his way (mostly bit) on top of Gerard in a 1-on-1 match earlier. The big Scotsman had no idea when he entered the bathhouse arena that he’d be leaving not only conquered, but the willing (dare I say eager?) pup to the wiley English funnyman. The two showed up again in a team match against co-stars Jonathan Rhys-Meyers and Henry Cavill (who’d also worked out their own daddy discipline arrangement earlier). Turns out, Sean and Gerard had their eyes on stealing young Henry away from Jonathan from the beginning, which indeed, they do. For his part, Henry seems to need little convincing to join Sean’s pack once he’s been put in his place.

The most recent chapter I posted this weekend has Gerard and Henry in a command team screen test against up and coming True Blood hunks, Joe Manganiello and Mehcad Brooks. This is Mehcad’s debut in the Producer’s Ring, but regular readers will remember that Joe not long ago competed in a three-way bout against Russell Tovey and Taylor Lautner to determine who is top dog among the werewolf actors. Joe made a big impression on the the entertainment industry power hitters (not to mention Russell Tovey), and he could be in line for much bigger and better things, depending on how his screen test with partner Mehcad sorts itself out.

I don’t picture Joe and Mehcad to be lovers. I do picture them both buying into the hype surrounding their worship-worthy physiques, however. They’re both determined to not only defeat their opponents, to not only impress the talent scouts watching, but to claim what is rightfully theirs: the awestruck worship of their massively muscled physiques.

And let’s face it, Gerard and Henry are undeniably outmuscled. Gerard is a big, hard boy, but he hasn’t been in 300 shape lately. Henry is just now filling his physique out, renovating a fashion model body into an action hero body. Both of them are damn, damn hot in my book, but when it comes to raw power, they’re simply outgunned by their opponents. However, they have two things on their side that their opponents don’t, and it’s those two crucial elements that will determine which team saddles up onto their sleepered-out opponents to pump out some side-by-side victory explosions: the cub pack is fighting as only passionate intimate partners can, and they’ve got daddy Sean coaching them ringside.

Good luck, Joe and Mehcad. You’ll need it.

Tats Named

So pull out your quiz and let’s review your answers:
Tat #1 belongs to…
…none other than BG East bread-n-butter himself, Brad Rochelle.
Brad Rochelle v Alexi Adamov & Bodie – BG Eat’s The Contract 7: Revenge of the Jobber

Specifically, Brad is shown here displaying that messed up psycho clown tattoo of his as he finishes off both Alexi Adamov and Bodie (both rookies here) at the same time for The Contract 7: Revenge of the Jobber. Brad is simply a classic homoerotic wrestling icon. If you don’t know him, click away from this site instantly and place your order for a Brad Rochelle feature at BG East. Seriously, if you don’t know Brad, you’re banned from finishing this post until you have ordered up some of what no one but Brad can deliver. Start with Brad’s epic introduction of Joshua Goodman (this was before you were required to address him as Mr. Joshua), when Josh was a green rookie. Or to fully understand the “revenge of the rookie” concept, check him out when he was writing the book on muscle jobbing, such as against Dom the Dominator in Demolition 3.

Don’t know this homoerotic wrestler? Stop here and go directly to BG East – Brad Rochelle.
Now on to tat #2
… which appears on on the rippled, hairy abs of Can-Am’s Jimmy Dean.

Jimmy Dean – Can-Am’s Border Thugz

Showing off his tummy tat, his smoking hot body with precisely the right amount of body hair, and classic Jimmy Dean ferocity, here he’s completely out wrestling Chris Cumberland (I believe) in Border Thugz. Jimmy started off his homoerotic wrestling career a lot smaller. Much more recently, he’s grown a whole lot bigger. But like Goldilocks, I’m partial to Jimmy right here in the middle, tatted up, thick and hairy, but still life-size and maneuverable. If you tell me that you have no recognition of Jimmy Dean, we need to enroll you in an intensive course of Homoerotic Wrestling 101: Icons of Homoerotic Wrestling. Your first assignment will be to sample the goods of Brad Rochelle and Jimmy Dean, and be able to identify every body part from any angle.

Then there’s tat #3, which belongs to…
…BG East’s Jonny Firestorm.
Specifically, in this case, it’s Jonny proudly flexing his tight, hard muscles as he squeezes the kidneys of Rico Rave in Demolition 12, a compilation which also stars the #1 contender for the title of my favorite homoerotic wrestler – non-pornboy division, Joshua Goodman. Jonny has a personality that fills the ring, which I credit with distracting me away from his fine tats. The back tat, the left shoulder, the left bicep all look like the fine and intricate work of an accomplished artist… like Jonny himself.

Tat #4 stumped everyone I heard from, which surprises me, because it belongs to…
…Thunder’s Arena’s STL.
STL v Big Sexy – Thunder’s Arena’s Bodybuilder Battle 20
So I don’t toss STL in the category of homoerotic wrestling icon, though I’d pay money to have a go at tossing him somewhere. He is, however, delightful to watch work up a sweat, and he’s liberally covered in tats, including several in particularly painful places to get tats (I’m talking about his inner bicep and lower arms!). Specifically, this pic of STL comes from a brief breather in his Bodybuilder Battle 20 against asstastic (and beautifully tatted, as well), Big Sexy. All that muscle… all that sweat… and not a bare ass in sight… something so wrong, something so right (okay, you do get to see some of Big Sexy’s ass as he ridiculously/delightfully attempts to wear way to small of trunks).
Tat #5 belongs to…
…BG East brute and muscle daddy, Joe Mazetti.
Joe Mazetti v Ricky Martin – BG East’s Demolition 7
In particular, Joe is here pictured pummeling the living crap out of the sweet pecs of beautiful jobber Ricky Martinez for Demolition 7. The juxtaposition of massively, thickly muscled Joe, born to bully and absolutely thrilled to dominate, with doe-in-the-headlights Ricky, all relatively slender, aesthetic lines and movie star good looks, is stunning casting. Joe is more the muscle beast in this match than possibly any other, with biceps bigger that Ricky’s neck. I wasn’t not looking for Joe when I first stumbled across him in Fantasymen 18, but he rocked me hard in his match against Derek D’Amore and made me an instant fan.

No one scored a perfect score on the quiz, so a pic of one of my tats once again goes unclaimed. There are some prime examples here, however, of staple homoerotic wrestling fare, so if you don’t recognize the tats, I recommend you study up on more of the beautiful work of these gorgeous wrestlers.

Name That Tat

I’ve been light on postings lately as I’ve been immersed in work on a couple of wrestling fiction pieces. Back to fun and games, though, I’ve decided the Sunday quiz will focus in again on tattoos. As regular readers will understand, I’m a big fan of beautiful body art on a homoerotic wrestling hunk. Today’s game features some close ups of some very distinctive tats. I’m putting up as a prize, once again, a pic of one of my own tats for the first person who can correctly identify the owner of all five tats below along with the opponents for the matches pictured. Tough stuff, I know, but I don’t just give my shit away for free! Seriously, I think someone will have a serious shot at running the board this time, with some very identifiable body art on display. I’ll post answers late tomorrow afternoon, to give you some time to study.
Now, Tat #1:
You cannot tell me that you don’t recognize this oddly disturbing shoulder tat. I’ve had more to say about only one other homoerotic wrestler in my nearly two years of blogging. Trickier may be the challenge of identifying the match from which this pic comes, though even there, I think there are abundant clues for even one with passing familiarity of this hot hunk’s body of work.
Tat #2:

I think that this tat is possibly as distinctive and unmistakable as tat #1. Unlike the owner of tat #1, though, we have the growing body of body art documented over time for this fine, fine specimen. In fact, he was the feature of my very first Bodies Over Time post. He’s been incredibly productive in the homoerotic wrestling business. So much so, in fact, the real challenge will probably be teasing out the match from which this pic was captured. You can eliminate the lengthy part of his resume that came before the tats featured here, so that should help. Just because I’m a pushover and can’t stand to hear you complain that this is always too hard, I’ll just say that this match inspired me during the Winter Olympics in Vancouver last year. ‘Nuff said.
Tat #3:
I’d like to know the artist who inked this homoerotic wrestler, because I think the work is fantastically pristine. I find it interesting that I don’t really notice his body art when this wrestler wrestles, which is in part why I put this halfway down the quiz today. This ink belongs to an extremely versatile wrestler with skills in the ring and on the mats (and in some Boston back alleys, I’d wager). Again, the match will pose the biggest challenge here, but you can pare down this wrestler’s resume to just the matches in which he’s smooth and in fighting trim. It’s also the only time that this hot wrestler makes an appearance on the same tape with the top contender for the title of my favorite homoerotic wrestler – nonpornboy division. Obscure clue, I realize, but you’ve got to work for your marks in my class.
Tat #4:

This tat resides on an incredibly meaty left pec. “Honor” it says, with a heart, which should be distinctive enough for you. It’s not the only ink this tanned homoerotic wrestling side of beef owns, but it makes me obsess about licking the sweat off his pec whenever I see it. His body of work isn’t so extensive that I feel like I need to give you a ton of clues, but I’ll just say that his opponent in this indoor bout was an answer to a former “Name That Ass” quiz.  If I say more, I might as well just tell you the answer, so that’s it.

Tat #5:
This gorgeous artwork is fantastic, but I’m suspecting that it may not be entirely distinctive enough to immediately ring your bell, so I’m landing it in the place of honor as last and, potentially, most challenging for today’s game. Similar to tat #2, we’ve had an opportunity in this homoerotic wrestler’s resume to see him before and after he began collecting ink. When I first saw him (not in the match pictured), I was really buying the product primarily for a different match on the tape, but it was this homoerotic wrestler’s snarling, flexing, dominating performance that quickly became one of my favorites. His resume is quite long, but a good deal of it covers the time before the ink showed up, so I’m not feeling too, too generous when it comes to helping you out with naming his opponent. But I’ll just say that his opponent here was one of the classic jobbers, all gorgeous handsomeness and hot muscle packed into “beat-me-senseless” pink trunks. Damn, just like waving red in front of a charging bull…
So there’s your assignment. Novices in the appreciation of homoerotic wrestling should really focus on identifying the first two tats. If you don’t know them yet, you’ll want to soon. Intermediate fanatics will likely recognize tat #3, but need to put in a little extra study time to nail down the last two tats and all the opponents. Expert homoerotic wrestling aficionados will likely have no trouble recognizing any of the above wrestlers, but may find it just a stretch to sort out the opponents for each pic (particularly since the last three pics don’t show you anything of the opponents!). Good luck. You may begin…

Karismatic

I have been so hot for Kid Karisma lately. That body, that attitude, that incredibly hot sexuality dripping from him like honey. Each time I catch Kid K in something new, my infatuation grows.
In the new release Wet and Wild 5, the karismatic one picks a pool fight with Christian Taylor. Christian is muscled up and harder than I’ve seen him before. And he seems to get a kick out of the playful calling out that Kid K slaps down. They’re in the pool quickly and tossing one another around impressively. On the theme of rides that would be fan favorites at a homoerotic wrestling theme park, getting the chance to have Kid K on your shoulders, crotch-to-face, as he flexes and taunts, would be in Space Mountain territory.
I’d stand in line for Christian’s crotch in my face as well, for that matter. Now typically, a pool match leaves me feeling all frustrated. So much of Kid K’s gorgeous physique is underwater most of the time. I love seeing him throw Christian around like a rag doll, of course, but what opportunities that arise from wrestling in water seem to me to be outweighed by the obscuring of the wrestler’s bodies themselves. In this case, the pool time is relatively brief, and it does serve the most excellent purpose of displaying Kid K’s muscle-bully attitude (with a twist of arousal).
On dry land, Christian takes several more trips on Space Mountain, with Kid’s crotch shoved hard down onto Christian’s chin. The karismatic one continues to taunt and bully. Even though Christian has the long limbs and potential leverage to have a chance against Kid K, he can’t rally for more than a minute before the cocky red-head slaps him down like a puppy. 

 Christian doesn’t always appear to be too upset about it, either. I mean, he suffers just fine. He takes a beating, getting slammed and tossed and choked every which way to Sunday, but can you blame him for the irrepressible smile stretched across his lips as Kid K flexes and preens with his cock pressed against Christian’s chin?

One could almost imagine this as a Thunder’s Arena bit from the bold strokes, but make no mistake, these boys wrestle hard. Unlike over at Thunder’s, where there often seems to be a wanting for motivation to explain why the boys throw down, Kid K and Christian build some sweet intensity laced unmistakably with the fine scent of foreplay. Christian does not just role over and take it, despite every evidence that he’s nothing but flattered to be in Kid K’s sights. Kid K is determined to show off, to act as if it’s a cakewalk, but it’s less about it actually being a cakewalk than it is about Kid K showing the pretty one that he can take him at any moment, that he will dominate him at will, that he can crush Christian’s boy and break his will whenever it suits him. Locked up tight in Kid K’s figure-4 sleeper, Christian struggles. He fights it. He doesn’t want to be embarrassed so completely. Personally, I think he desperately wants to prove that he can hang with the karismatic one, that he deserves to be in Kid K’s league. He doesn’t want to be muscled around and sleepered out cold with the pool water still dripping from his hair.

 But Kid K knows what Christian wants, and all the wrestling foreplay pays off as Kid K wakes sleeping beauty with a kiss. To be clear, Kid K has been smacking down aggressive, stolen kisses frequently during the action. This is explicit homoeroticism that makes me stand up and cheer (once I’ve toweled off). The harder Christian makes him work, the more Kid K seems to grow hungry for the taste of Christian’s lips. Finally laying him out cold, Kid K crouches over his vanquished opponent and tenderly, like Prince Charming himself all of the sudden, he tenderly wakes Christian up in one of the most pleasing ways one can be awakened.

Rough play followed by tender care is one of my very favorite stories of all. Kid K helps the tall, battered boy, woozy from his sleeper, up to his feet. Tenderly, dare I say, lovingly (well, at the very least, lustfully), Kid K wraps his muscle bound left arm around Christian’s waist and lets the pretty boy lean on him for support and balance as they slowly begin to make their way inside. Christian, perhaps not as befuddled and in need of a gentleman’s aid as he might have let on, slides the palm of his hand down the bulging muscles of Kid K’s back and underneath Kid K’s turquoise trunks, copping a quick feel of those legendary muscle glutes. Kid K cups the pretty one’s tight ass, as if in reply, and they head inside.

Fantastic homoerotic wrestling fare. I buy the story from start to finish, of sexual tension that detours through rough housing, bullying domination, building hotter and hotter until Kid K puts Christian out cold, at which point all the allusions and implications are finally played out. They put their cards on the table. And they walk off arm in arm (and asses in hand), both fully aroused and ready to blow. This is a wonderful piece of homoerotic wrestling.