wrestlebard

A Mad Mad Mad Mad World

October 24, 2015October 24, 2015 wrestlebard3 Comments

“You really want to get beat by me, don’t you?” Mad Mykel asks as Ty Alexander leads him to the BG East ring in Ring Releases 3. “I wouldn’t say that,” Ty coyly replies. Because anyone with a passing familiarity with Ty’s resume has got to suspect that Trophy Boy is a total glutton for punishment. He’s had that fine ass of his beaten and battered, stripped and spanked, tied up and knocked down time and time again, leaving the unmistakable impression that, while Ty is no pushover, he very well may get off on getting owned.

Mad Mykel’s got a screw loose (and I kind of like it)

This is just the second time we’ve had an opportunity to see Mad Mykel in action. His dismantling of babyface bombshell Richie Douglas was no fluke. Coming from out of absolutely nowhere, MM is vicious, sadistic, and more than just a little touched in the head. It’s after midnight at BG East’s Florida facilities. The place is all buttoned up with no one but Ty, MM and some unnamed lucky fucking cameraman around, but Mad Mykel is repeatedly distracted from this wrestling match by the roar of crowds that only he can hear.

Mad Mykel likes the look of Ty locked up tight

Not that the unhinged one doesn’t deserve some cheering fans. In fact, count me in. I like this kid a lot. I wasn’t sure I would, when I first got a look at him, but the more I see of him, the more he makes me laugh and turns me on, which is a particularly intoxicating combination for me. He’s relentless, merciless, and viscerally titillated by witnessing the suffering of his opponent at his mercy. And then those skin tight red trunks come off and… oh… fuck! That is one beautiful, beautiful cock!

Which speaks volumes as to the chemistry in this match because Mad Mykel’s mouthwatering member seems like the perfect compliment to that bouncing bubble butt that Ty shoves in every opponent’s face sooner or later. There’s a sly earnestness about Trophy Boy. I’ve watched him in match after match, I’ve chatted with him online, and not once, ever have I seen him break character as the super ambitious Eve Harrington determined to awe-shucks-and-dazzle his way into the hearts and pants of BG East wrestling fans. With some wrestlers I’ve connected with off the pages of this blog, I’ve come to see the men behind the wrestling personas, the insecurities, the foibles and quirks, the non-wrestling passions and pass times. But I’ve come to the conclusion that with Ty, what you see is what you get. And what I see is a hot little tanned twink babyface beauty with a singular focus on big, big wrestling star dreams and a bucket full of eye-batting charm and confidence. And that ass. If ever there were two puzzle pieces that you want to see fit together, take a look at Mad Mykel’s glorious cock and Ty’s bubble butt.

There’s a point in this match when Mad Mykel’s insanity defense seems to push its luck just a bit. He’s bullying Ty relentlessly. He’s worked up a head of steam and lording it over the Trophy Boy with something bordering between erotic sadism and just outright malice. He’s riding hard, then gets up, motions for Ty to peel his hot ass off the mat and get to his feet. But just as Ty goes to do so, Mad Mykel shoves the Trophy Boy in the shoulder and sends him sprawling back down. It’s subtle. Not anywhere near the most vicious maneuver or the hardest hit. But judging by Ty’s scramble, suddenly lashing out, sweeping the insane one’s legs out from underneath, and taking him down and CONTROLLING him completely, I’m guessing there was some unscripted passion poking its head out, brought on by MM’s dancing just a little too close to the edge.

And speaking of heads poking out, have I mentioned Mad Mykel’s fabulous cock? He’s got such a babyface, that there’s something slightly shocking about his lovely member bouncing around unbridled once the trunks and the jocks are off. That burst of Trophy Boy offense eventually gives way to the successful heel assault of one of the newest sexy heels in the BG East ranks. And Ty gets worn down, muscle by muscle, hold by hold, and the more MM shoves that giant bulge in his opponent’s face, the more I get the impression that Ty’s not so secret desire all along as been to get a total beatdown that leaves them both gagging for a messy ring release.

And, well, you know the title of the product, so definitely, all of that unbridled erotic intensity, that intoxicating, aromatic mix of sweat, tears, spit and pre cum send this seriously hard bumping tussle into an oddly competitive full on foreplay session. Maybe MM is still under Ty’s skin, because the Trophy Boy refuses for a time to let the victor stay on top, even as they’re in a full throated make out session and mutual masturbatory fire stoking. Ty turns the tables, seemingly unsatisfied with the jobber role, no longer ready to let the winner of the match dictate the terms of surrender quite as fully as he did with, say, sizzling hot hunk daddy Goren Ford in Dark Knights 12. Soon enough, though, Ty erupts on command, followed closely by a Mad Mykel’s three count face slapping cock pin.

Yeah, Ty gets dragged by his wasted cock out of the ring by his diabolical new owner (someone get Goren on the line, because I want to see him win Ty back from MM!). But there’s a petulance, a raging, ego driven wrestling competitor who keeps popping out in Ty’s matches that says there may be a whole lot more to the Trophy Boy than we’ve seen yet. Maybe I’ve been wrong. Maybe there is much more to Ty Alexander then meets the eye!

A Complete Revelation

October 22, 2015October 22, 2015 wrestlebard2 Comments

0102_lg — You may think you know Leo Tomasi, but you don’t… yet.

Reminding myself of my new mantra not to obsess over saying everything on the way to neglecting saying anything, I want to reflect some thoughts and opinions on one of BG East’s most recent releases. Ring Releases 3 features 2 cum-to-victory matches that deserve some attention. For today, let me start with match #1, pitting notorious baby heel Kayden Keller against heel-bait beauty Leo Tomasi.

h0113_lg — Get ready for some up close attention to Leo’s luscious ass.

If there’s a headliner star to this match it’s Leo’s awesome ass. Whoever the cameraman is, I’m placing a sizable bet that he had erection throughout the taping of this bout, because he’s giving Leo’s gravity defying derriere a zoomed-to-perfection eye fuck from start to finish. I first came across Leo watching him get beat to a (literally) bloody pulp by Dr. Cooper in full heel mode. Honestly, I was a little surprised that the doctor didn’t terrorize the gorgeous stud right out of homoerotic wrestling. But not only is he back, not only is he looking way eager to square off against rising full throttle erotic star Kayden, he’s somehow managed to squeeze his truly glorious ass into the tightest, most provocative, leaves-nothing-to-the-imagination-thank-God denim screen print super-super snug square cuts. Holy fuck, dangling that ass in those trunks in front of this opponent!? I had no idea that luscious Leo was this game. Based on his previous outings, I was totally assuming Leo was going to stay on the G-rated side of the action (well, PG-13 for suffering brutality that would terrorize small children).

And then there’s Kayden Keller. In my mind’s eye, I picture Kayden about 5 inches shorter than he is (then again, in my mind’s eye I picture myself about 5 inches taller than I am). So I have to gasp just a bit when he meets up with Leo in the middle of the ring, and he absolutely towers over the 5’8″ studpuppy. Kayden is quickly marching in line behind Kid Vicious as a wrestler who seems to read my mind, a heel whose eyes and hands seem to respond to my deepest desires, who somehow seems to be my living, breathing, sensationally sexy avatar. As they stand there, facing each other down (Kayden staring way down his nose), I’m thinking, fuck, grab that mouthwatering bulge staring back at you. And then, like he heard me, Kayden wraps his long fingers around Leo’s big package and says the words that I swear to the homoerotic wrestling gods are at that moment forming in my mind, “Real nice shorts there.” Kayden’s presence is massive, and it’s not that he outweighs lithe Leo by 35 pounds. It’s a deceptive maturity behind that beautiful babyface of his. It’s a confidence that he’s had in every match, but one that appears to me to really coming into his own, telegraphing with a glance and a smirk a whole arsenal of sadistic, erotic torture he has in store.

The revelation in this match is that Leo isn’t just game to get his ass tagged in a balls out homoerotic cum-to-victory blowout. It’s that this is precisely the genre that he was born for! If I were his manager (services available, Leo), I’d insist every match from now on be in the Ring Release, X-Fight, Dark Knight end of the shelf, because the explicitly erotic content here brings out a side of him that we have not seen before and we must see again and again. Holy shit, he takes it to Kayden. Shorter, lighter, considerably less experienced, and still Leo works up a sensational head of steam on the veteran. He does exactly what he needs to do to hang in a match with the likes of Kayden. He’s mercilessly brutal, viciously attacking the big Wolf’s balls, and pairing almost hold for hold crippling combat with completely distracting erotic offense. Clearly Leo doesn’t fail to notice what I’m enthralled with, namely the fact that Kayden can’t keep his hands of that beautiful ass. So what does he do? He puts the heel down to his back and luxuriates as he plants those gorgeous glutes on top of his opponent’s face. There’s no disguising how turned on Kayden is, and like the erotic pro Leo most definitely is, he exploits every inch of his intoxicating body to debilitate the seasoned erotic warrior. Kayden gets so distracting, and Leo doesn’t miss a beat in bearing down harder and harder with each of the heel’s missteps. I’m nothing but shocked when suddenly the novice not only latches on a sweat soaked sleeper, but he holds it tight, fucking milks it for everything its worth, and again, I say holy shit, Kayden goes out cold!

0114_lg — Wake up and smell that humble pie, Kayden!

I LOVE being surprised watching a match like this! That even keel Kayden owns gives way to getting sensationally dominated in the sexiest of ways by babyface erotic prodigy. Like I said, Kayden is out. Way out. I’m thinking to myself, this is over and done with, because Leo can do whatever the fuck he wants with the big Wolf now. And what does Leo want, he wants to shove that pulsing, throbbing muscle straining the pouch of those instantly legendary trunks into Kayden’s slack jawed mouth. Again, my avatar proves he moves to my deepest desires by beginning to hungrily gnaw on the vacuum packed man meat before he’s anywhere near fully conscious again. What a way to wake up! Luscious Leo is in control. He owns this moment. He owns the shocked baby heel on his knees in front of him. And again I saw, Leo was born for this! And then seductively, with his eyes rolling into the back of his head just a little, Leo turns around, reaches behind him, and rams Kayden’s bewildered face into his top shelf ass. This is total erotic domination. Leo has paid for this moment with completely legit wrestling offense, aggressive seduction, and sweat. No one is begrudges this moment for the novice to shine, because Kayden is coming fully awake and in total ecstasy buried deep in those glutes.

h0123_lg — Kayden digs deep to turn this around.

Like I said, this could totally have been over and done with the moment Leo put Kayden out cold. A lesser man would’ve just counted his opponent out and walked away. A bigger heel would’ve ripped of Kayden’s black trunks, gagged him with them, and tied the 6’2″ hunk into the ropes to own him body and soul. But there’s something poetic and copacetic about the turn in the plot when the big Wolf interrupts the beautiful boy’s victory celebration with a ball crushing reversal of fortune. With new respect for the erotic novice, Kayden sees it’s time to take Leo to the next level. No surprises really at this point, as Leo suffers long and hard, though I have to admit that I have a whole new appreciation for Kayden’s beautiful naked butt, now that I’ve seen him plant it across Leo’s face and take out a year long lease. This is another moment that I’m inexplicably shocked by the sheer size of the big Wolf. That baby, baby face (beard and all) is such a complete misdirection when it comes to me really integrating the fact that Kayden is a 6’2″ hunk of man.

0125_lg — The big Wolf takes the situation firmly in hand.

Both of these beautiful men want each other so hard you can smell it wafting off your screen by the end. Kayden holds him down and shoots his load across Leo’s torso. Before the lovely loser can reciprocate, his new daddy drags his sweat and cum soaked hot body off the mat by his balls, out of the ring, and out the door, with the cameraman yet again zooming in Leo’s wildly munchable naked ass.

0118_lg — “One of the perkiest asses in the business” in the crosshairs.

Let me just conclude by repeating myself. Leo is made for this type of match. Manage to squeeze those glutes back into that pair of painted on trunks and toss this erotic pro back into the ring again, please. Soon. And if he and Kayden walk out some day as a juggernaut, baby heel, full-on erotic tag team phenomenon, save me a seat in the front row. And I would offer a parting message to Kayden Keller, about how sensationally his heel career is taking shape, and exactly what and who I hope to see him doing next in my fondest homoerotic wrestling fantasies… but I guarantee you, he already knows what I’m thinking.

0120_lg — You know exactly what I’m thinking, don’t you Kayden?

The Whole Pack of Losers

October 18, 2015 wrestlebard6 Comments

It’s been ages, I know. I think this has been my longest absence from posting here at neverland ever. Thanks to those who reached out to check in. I’m well. Just candles lit at both ends. I miss the exercise of posting here, thinking through my erotic tastes, comparing notes with those of you who comment. I’m going to try to get back on the wagon here. Comment often. It’s positively reinforcing for me.

Republican-Presidential-Candidates-2016 — The news is dire.

My goal is to keep things concise in order to post more regularly. One of my traps is to overthink things, intending to say so much that it takes forever to get down on the page, if ever. I’m also going to work on reflecting on my homoerotic interests in vivo, spending time more on what’s turning me on as I trek through my days. And casual readers of these pages know that I tend to spend a lot of time worrying over politics. So let me handicap the U.S. Presidential candidates today based on the only measure that really moves me: who I’d want to see in a homoerotic wrestling match.

original — Martin O’Malley brings sexy to the Presidential candidacy!

Fuck. With every Republican and his turtle running, you’d think the field would be so much richer than it is. But, again, I say, fuck. So let’s start with the standout and most obvious choice over on the Democratic side: former Maryland governor Martin O’Malley.

6790379989_fc2c796d5d_b — Fuck yes, that’s a winner!

I’ve been hot for his muscles for years, mind you. The 6’1″ stud puppy is entirely fuckable, and adding to his allure is the fact that I’m pretty sure big Marty knows it. It isn’t by accident that you do charity appearances that require you to go shirtless. Of course, I’m not the only one with my eyes on big papa’s pecs. Jim Webb comes in a distant second place for the Dem I’d most like to see strip down, climb in the ring, and work up a hot lather in homoerotic combat. So sure, Marty’s got a snowball’s chance in hell of being our next Prez, but in the homoerotic wrestling rankings, he’s got the top spot locked up tight in a side headlock.

Marco-Rubio-Water — Sweaty, nervous, luchador doughboy jobber.

Finding anyone at all to contend with Marty is challenging. Assuming they wrestle with a ball gag locked in place so I don’t have to hear a word of their bullshit, it’s still a tough call to imagine any of the other side of the aisle making me consider even the slightest swell of support. Marco Rubio could be a ripe, young babyface jobber worth considering. I’ve never seen the senator shirtless, and I get the impression he’s a little doughboy underneath his Men’s Warehouse big boy suits. At 5’10”, the Cuban prodigy might make a compelling enough luchador on his way to getting unmasked, tied in the ropes, and totally owned. But I feel like I’m seriously having to stretch my imagination with that one.

Trump requires at least a mention (remember, the ball gag). It really requires no imagination at all to see him as a sloppy, underhanded, big bellied pro wrestling heel circa 1987. He talks shit constantly. He’s all bluster and overinflated ego built on cheating, lying, and stealing his way to the “top.” In the ring (let’s put him in extensive tights, because any more visible flesh than absolutely necessary on that putrid Baron Harkonnen-esque freakshow would kill any chance of a buzz), maybe, possibly I could get off on a high drama greasy, nasty, 6’2″ heel nearly cheating his way to victory of O’Malley with ball bashing and hair pulling, only to have the big, beautiful babyface hero battle back to leave the loudmouth screaming and crying and begging his way to loser-ville. Still quite a stretch for me, though.

randpaul3.1.13 — Daddy’s little richboy needs a big, nasty beatdown.

I think my pick O’Malley’s opponent for the money shot, however, is Rand Paul. Again, I feel the need to emphasize that he’d have to wrestle with a ball gag. But daddy’s little (5’8″) rich boy is handsome enough, with curly locks screaming out to get dragged around the ring by. I see a catchweight match with Marty. Pasty white and soft in the middle, daddy’s little rich boy is all swagger and substance, certain of his manifest destiny to shoot his load across O’Malley’s bulging pecs. And I totally get off on a little guy working a big muscle hunk hard, so I’m giving Rand a ton of riding time, lots of shock and awe, high flying, bouncing off the ropes, schoolboy pins for days. Marty is pressed hard, soaked in sweat, looking like he could go down for the count in a munchkin figure-4 choke that makes both pols hard. But then dripping with melodrama, big Marty flips his opponent and the script, knocking the senator out with half a dozen gorilla press body slams, slapping him awake with his raging cock, and then forcing the ideologue to scream out his weeping submission wracked across the big papa’s bulging shoulders with one hand yanking down hard on his balls and the other pulling viciously on those curly locks.

Yeah, I just don’t see anyone coming out (or cumming out) on top over big Marty so far. And as for the rest of the Republican field, I’d sooner pop wood watching Hillary wrestle, which is a complete impossibility. Mostly, though, I just prefer them all with ball gags.

Nuts and Bolt

October 15, 2015October 23, 2015 wrestlebardLeave a comment

Although my life has hovered around all new levels of bat shit crazy lately, I have relied on some recreational viewing of homoerotic wrestling to keep me entertained, and relieve a whole lot of stress. Thunder’s Arena recetly announced that new babyface bon bon Bolt has taken a commanding lead in their sales lately, so I hunkered down with former HWOTM Marco and Bolt in No Holds Barred 49 to see what all the fuss is about.

Okay, I get it. I mean, no, Bolt isn’t the second coming of Brad Rochelle exactly, though I think he hits similar notes. He’s seriously young, and he’s both painfully pretty and unmistakably masculine at the same time. In other companies, he’d be a breakout star of the “Fantasymen” genre, almost definitely fitting equally well on a homoerotic wrestling mat and a go-go boy pole. He’s a tasty boy-next-door with sweet muscles, hairy armpits, and (be prepared to do a double take) a massive bulge making that blue singlet’s pouch hang low. Miss the pouch? No worries. The camera helpfully zooms in to let you study the hinted at man meat packaged underneath.

bolt10 — The star of the match: Bolt’s bolt.

When the porn-star-ready newbie encounters Marco on the mat in a low cut red singlet, there’s that fratbro give and take that is Thunder’s Arena’s bread and butter. Dripping with Southern gentility and a heat-stroked slow drawl, Bolt says he’s wrestling today to represent all amateur wrestlers everywhere. Marco shrugs those massive, muscled shoulders of his and reminds the newbie that he’s here representing Thunders. In other words, buckle up boys, this is going to be an initiation of a naive newbie at the hands of a seasoned homoerotic fan favorite.

bolt6 — “We may be small, big we’re big at the same time.”

“I’m here to tear you up!” Bolt boasts when Marco is predictably underwhelmed by the pretty new flavor of the week. The veteran points out that he has a distinct weight advantage over the rookie. In response, Bolt grabs that massive bulge and tugs on it hard. Fuck, that’s one big, hefty handful of newbie! “We may be small, but we’re big at the same time!” the rook slyly boasts about the relative size of his body to his eye catching pouch.

bolt2 — Marco wastes no time getting his hands on Bolt’s nuts and bolt.

So yeah, there’s the predictable innocence spoiled narrative here. They scramble on the mat. Bolt is seductively fast and confident. Marco is steady as a rock and waits for just the right moment to snap his tree trunks around the newbie’s head. Just to properly say hello, he also clamps on a ball claw, which I’m guessing is mostly just to test out whether that improbably massive mountain is all meat or some stuffing. My take is that’s 100% grade-A rookie meat by the look it and the sound of Bolt’s gasping whimpers.

bolt15 — So, so much camera love for Bolt’s bulge!

“You grab my dick!?” Bolt snarls, grabbing Marco back and then slapping him into bodyscissors. That plaintive disbelief in his voice sort of pisses off. Of course he fucking grabbed your dick, newbie. 99% of the audience is gay men. You know that. He knows that. We know you know that. You’ve been grabbing that anaconda stuffed in your pouch, shoving it in Marco’s face, bragging about it from the start. Shut the fuck up and do this thing.

bolt3 — Bolt gets a taste of Marco’s signature move.

“Did they warn you about my signature move?” Marco asks, sliding onto Bolt’s bulging chest in a schoolboy pin. He pulls newbie’s face hard into his balls, and here’s where Bolt sort of starts to redeem himself just a little for me. The kid laughs, somehow not exactly appalled, maybe just a little panicked, maybe just little intrigued. The obligatory pass at being shocked and offended is quickly dispensed with, and, well, yeah. Getting your face shoved in Marco’s crotch should make you somewhere in the middle of panicked, intrigued, and laughing with embarrassment. You’re getting owned, pretty boy. So thanks for skipping the gay panic defense and just enjoy the ride about 1/10th as much as I am enjoying watching it.

bolt7 — “Why don’t you get yourself another handful?” Marco invites.

As documented many, many times before, Marco is my favorite Thunder’s boy for not shying away from the homoerotic content (mostly subtext, but often pretty fucking explicit double entendre). So it’s pure Marco when Bolt defensively grabs the veteran’s cock to try to claw his way free, then quickly pulls away, like he’s a little shocked at the feel of the python beneath. “Why don’t you get yourself another handful?” Marco invites the kid to sample his meat selection again.

bolt11 — Bolt seems to enthusiastically enjoy Marco’s lesson in what makes this homoerotic wrestling.

Somewhere in the scrap, Bolt starts to blossom. His hands inadvertently claw at Marco’s big, bulging pecs, and the veteran instantly calls attention to the subtext. “You grabbing my chest?” he asks. “Yeah,” he coos seductively. “Feel that. You like that?” And then, with more enthusiasm than any of us had any right to expect, Bolt gushes enthusiastically, “I like it! I like it!”

bolt8 — “Kinda big,” Bolt marvels at Marco’s pecs. “I like it!”

Honestly, I doubt either of these body beautiful beefcakes plays for my team. Just a guess, and my gaydar has been known to be off before. But there’s a long and deep tradition of straight boys populating homoerotic wrestling products. And Marco brings Bolt along in one of the innovations at Thunder’s that makes me give them a lot more credit than I used to. They acknowledge the homoeroticism in this moment. They talk about what you and I are thinking, bringing into the foreground the sexual, sensual eroticism of two hot young hunks locked body to body. In an inexplicable break in the action, the two shrug their big shoulders out of their singlets and compare upper bodies. Marco is bigger. No contest. But it’s Bolt treating himself to an eager feel of his opponent’s pecs that make this much more than about size. “Kinda big,” Bolt’s Southern drawl curls the awed compliment out like molasses. “I like it!” the newbie concedes, again with more enthusiasm than I expect. Marco clearly appreciates the Adonis in front of him as well. “Little happy trail,” he grins, pointing at the kid’s flat lower abdomen, “Big package down there!” Marco acknowledges. Yep, that’s what I like about Marco. I don’t ever expect to see him sucking on any guy’s cock, but he’s stone cold unafraid to signal that this is homoerotic fare to you and me. There’s none of that old school “no homo” bullshit that drags too much “homoerotic” wrestling into the self-loathing side of things. Just some hot boys living in the moment and not backing down from acknowledging that all this muscled man-on-man friction is ridiculously sexy.

bolt4 — “I LOVE BALLS IN MY FACE!” the rookie screams.

There’s fratboy hijinks as well. This wouldn’t be Thunder’s without them. Sitting on the rookie’s face, the newbie’s hot, sweaty bod all wrapped up in a small package, Marco refuses to let him go until he screams the words, “I love balls in my face!” Trash talk, spanking, taunting schoolboy pins back and forth in less and less gear. Bolt is always following the veteran’s homoerotic lead, but it’s a tried and true hot lead he’s following.

bolt9 — “I’m going to kick your ass,” Bolt whispers hauntingly.

There’s one moment that haunts me just a little from this match. It comes after an awkward camera cut, so I’m feeling absolutely certain it’s completely scripted. But Bolt climbs on top of his supine hunk opponent, leans in, his lips pressed right up against Marco’s ear, and whispers “I’m going to kick your ass.” Fuck, that whisper is hot. If he’d screamed it or laughed through it, it would’ve been standard fratboy fare. But delivered just that way, in the context of Bolt seeming to grow more enthusiastic the more explicitly Marco draws attention to their hot bodies, that whisper grabs me by the balls.

bolt12 — Speaking of getting grabbed by the balls…

Both of these boys have stellar bodies that look better and better the more gear that gets ripped off. There’s a high lickability about Bolt’s baby smooth upper body and ever so lightly hairy peach fuzz legs. And Marco’s flexing, muscled ass… holy shit. Thunder’s has some of the hottest young physiques in the business, and the attention that both of these beautiful boys pay to each other’s bodies it pitch perfect for the best of what this match has to offer: hot, sweaty, gorgeous bodies.

bolt13 — The money shot: Bolt’s popularity in clear focus.

It’s an abrupt knock out finish to the match that brings this all to a close. The moment is sort of apropos of nothing else in the match. It’s sloppy story telling, as far as I’m concerned. It has a little feel of “we’ve got enough action recorded, so wrap this up.” So I’m a little bitter about that. So much raw material to work with in these two young men. But there’s some big picture perspectives missing.

bolt16 — Marco has to adjust his hand placement repeatedly as he goes for this gorilla press.

But for what it’s worth, for what it is and what it does, I’m significantly satisfied with Marco vs Bolt. Just like Marco, I really, really want to hear Bolt scream. And just like Bolt, I really, really (really) like the look of Marco’s hot, bulging, big muscles.

Mouthwatering

September 23, 2015September 23, 2015 wrestlebard6 Comments

0201_lg — Rookie stud Gus Row – 5’11”, 170 lbs.

I love fresh, rare meat. Since I’m a vegetarian, I suppose I should clarify that I love fresh raw meat like BG East rookie Gus Rowe in Bearhug Beatings 1. Handsome. Lean. Superbly fit. Entirely game. Yum, let’s tuck in right now and savor the choicest slice of beef on this pretty, pretty boy.

Dat. Ass. I often feel guilty when one particularly eye-catching feature captures me so completely. It’s not like gorgeous Gus is lacking in more than a dozen aesthetically notable features. Hand me a body of baby oil, and I’ll be happy to meet him in the ring and give you a guided tour. And he’s shown up in Bearhug Beatings 1 with a delightful earnestness, a naive confidence, and a bubbling cauldron of terror just beneath the surface. Gus deserves a first review from a blogger to be about more than his sensational ass.

But, fuck! I have a hard time tearing my eyes away from anything else with this cued up. The rookie doesn’t possess the outrageously built muscle glutes of, say, Best Butt winner many times over, Kid Karisma. The kid is lean, but his soft edges merely accentuate the palpable youthfulness, all that untested raw material. I have no idea whether Gus’ ass is literally virginal, but the quiver and give of those glutes are perfectly paired with his lamb to slaughter character as jobber-no-more Braden Charron beats the living shit out of him.

0215_lg — Braden squeezes the goods on behalf of us all.

Braden bearing down on a rookie like this is pretty compelling, I have to admit. I say that I have to admit it because I’m hit and miss with Braden lately. Often he puts me way over the top, but sometimes the story he tells feels too safe, too contained and well-worn. I’d hardly say he’s a raging heel in Bearhug Beatings. He’s vicious and merciless. He introduces gasping Gus to the shocks and awes of homoerotically inclined professional wrestling just fine. But his part feels much more to me that of the better endowed, more experienced, fan favorite hunk who gets to let loose on his achingly sweet rookie opponent.

The years that Gus spends suffering in Braden’s bearhugs in this match show off his moneymaker to perfection. That gorgeous ass is center frame for ages, writhing and flexing, bobbing and shaking. Gus is stubborn early going, refusing to acknowledge the plain truth that he’s in way, way over his head. He gives Braden not an ounce of satisfaction. He somehow manages to submit without conceding anything. Until, that is, Braden seriously starts to fuck with his head. Up in one of those quivering bearhugs, Braden stretches his fingers down the kid’s right glute and yanks upward, hard, on Gus’ teal trunks. Those beautiful cheeks pop free. That word “virginal” screams like a siren in my head. The intimate vulnerability and the attention on baring that beautiful ass pulse with heat. And when the kid finally gives, again, and is thrown to the mat, he feels his bared cheeks, weeping in agony, and with disbelieving shock in his voice, cries, “You gave a wedgie!?”

h0205_lg — Garnished with a side of sweat.

That’s my favorite moment of this match, the paradigmatic moment when Gus reveals that he was not expecting this. He realizes that he was not prepared for any of this. He has at least 10 more minutes of humiliating brutality left to suck on, and it’s just now dawned on him that he isn’t just going to lose, he’s going to be laid out and garnished like the prime cut of young beef he is. In my heart of hearts, I’m a little worried that having his eyes opened to the depths of torture and humiliation that he’s going to face in the BG East ring, lovely Gus may never darken the BG East doorstep again. But if there’s anything good in this world, then gorgeous Gus got up, licked his wounds (seriously, let me know if you need any help with that, Gus), and said to himself, “Fuck that was intense. I need more!”

0252_lg — Fuck that was intense. I need more!

At least, that’s what I’m saying.

Newsbreak

September 18, 2015 wrestlebard6 Comments

I have a special message to all the killjoys who say wishful thinking is a waste of time: suck on this, bitches!

static1.squarespace — Gay or straight, one thing was always for certain: Gio is fucking hot!

I once pined away for shirtless pics of those bulging biceps and obviously meaty pecs straining the seams of Gio Benetiz’ fabulously tailored suit coats, and then, my whispered prayers heard, beefcake Benitez started sharing shots of most of his muscled glory.

gio3 — Tommy DiDario started working up a sweat with Gio recently.

And of course I’ve been wishing and praying to the homoerotic wrestling gods for 2 years for the Latino beefcake news pin-up boy to be a certified ‘mo. And in recent weeks, like the rumble of the gods preparing to scatter manna from heaven, a certain sizzling hot hunk started showing up side by side with Gio in his Instagram photos, working up a lather of sweat and baby oil on the beach, sight-seeing, hiking. Sure, statistically speaking, it was probably likely that Gio wasn’t a member of the family, and that this was some hottie birds of a feather flocking together coincidence, because even young and pretty straight boys seem to gravitate toward one another.

Then emails started pouring in yesterday alerting me to the photo of Gio on bended knee at the Eiffel Tower holding said hunk’s hand. This is social media reality, of course, so we have Instagram photos and relatively vague captions, but, fuck, yes, and yes, it appears that Gio not only plays for our team, so does his ripped muscle hunk fiancee!

gio5 — Yep, I think Gio very well may be gay…

As someone already commented on my last post obsessing about Gio, yes, this certainly would seem to demand a starring role for these two in a homoerotic wrestling tag team fiction playing in my mind already and, the homoerotic wrestling gods willing, on the pages of this blog soon. Merging so many of my fondest gay wrestling fantasies, can we linger just a little on the idea of Gio and his balls-and-chain, wearing nothing but jock straps and smiles, facing off against rising NBC news star Thomas Roberts and his prettyboy husband sporting itty-bitty bikini bottoms?

e5da4687b701d9415fc060543292accc — Patrick Abner (l) and his NBC Newshunk husband Thomas Roberts (r) need to sort out who’s the hottest newsboy lover on air in the ring.

I’m already there, of course, and given the evidence that if I wish for something hard enough, it WILL happen, I’m devoting hours a day to this fantasy starting now. If… nay, when this becomes a reality, which lovers would come out on top?

Then, of course, there’s Sam Champion and his Brazilian hunk husband…

gma-sam-champion-shirtless-speedo-sexy-in-brazil-04 — Clearly, gay newboys and their husbands love the beach.

Beef will not be denied

September 15, 2015 wrestlebard4 Comments

I’ve been enjoying the Hottest of the Hottest series, and I swear, I’m getting back to the current match soon. Before I do, I’ve been tickled by several recommendations I’ve received from readers wanting to add someone to the roster of competitors. Now, officially, the Hottest of the Hottest is limited to those fashion pretty boys who Details magazine put on their cover celebrating the hottest 31 fashion models. And, of course, I’ve culled the field even further because I knew from the start I’d run out of steam before I managed to write an elimination tournament in which 31 different guys make appearances. But it’s that particular pretty of blue steel fashion boys that qualified this very small crowd to make the cut.

tumblr_lbbjxiq7JZ1qa — Sean O’Pry is a first round pretty boy fashion model winner of the Hottest of the Hottest competition.

Several of you have let me know that you’d really like to see some beefy slices of heaven that weren’t on the cover of Details climb into the ring in this round robin. It makes total sense to me that fitness models, gay muscle stars, and solo muscle site infatuations would jump to mind and pique your homoerotic wrestling imagination as you read about the Milan runway crowd throwing down hot and heavy. So far, there are three nominees who’ve gotten play in your imaginations.

-7_3 — Eliad Cohen – Papa Circuit Party maven and fantasyman extraordinaire, he was the coverboy a few years ago for the Spartacus World Gay Travel Guide.

2014-12-12-huffcolb1 — Underwear model and professional gay beefcake Colby Melvin could very possibly paralyze opponents with those baby blue eyes!

unnamed — Beefcake personified, Eric Lavin has a big fan of his All American Guys portfolio.

So yeah, I can easily see a follow up elimination tournament of beefy muscle stars, and if (and I mean IF) I maintain the fortitude, maybe the champ of the Hottest of the Hottest tournament, whoever he turnout out to be, will find his painfully pretty cheekbones tossed into the ring with the fitness model champ. The only question left is who else needs a shot at the fitness model homoerotic wrestling title? Let me know what you think.

Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month

September 11, 2015 wrestlebard2 Comments

So much to blog, so little time. The last quarter final match of the Hottest of the Hottest competition will have to wait, because I’m even more tardy in announcing a reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month to pluck the crown from last month’s winner Ty Alexander. So many long time infatuations of mine starred in August new releases, the choice was very tough. I nearly wimped out and called it a tie, just to squeeze in adoration of one more sensational wrestler. But I’m buckling down and making the tough call today, and speaking of adoration, my new reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month is…

…Logan Vaughn.

1402_med — Pure divinity from every angle!

I’ve been wanting this, longing for it even, hell, I’ve had some mystical certainty that fate would make this happen some day ever since I first saw Logan step into the ring in Jet Set’s The Ultimate Top. “The ultimate top” Logan was not, and for that matter, The Ultimate Top was also only somewhat satisfying for my wrestling kink tastes. But one thing that grabbed me hard and made my swoon was Logan’s gargantuan legs and that phenomenal ass testing out life as a homoerotic wrestler.

My recent review of Logan’s August new release appearance in BG East’s Florida Fights 5 gives away everything I really need to say regarding my rationale for shoving adorable Ty off the podium and giving a hand up to hardcore muscle pornboy Logan. The story arc between his first BG East appearance getting ground into dust by pro heel brute Lane Hartley and his Florida Fights 5 unveiling is epic. His Florida Fights opponent is 55 lbs lighter than Lane Hartley. Logan goes from a 30 pound weight disadvantage to a 35 pound advantage over erotic wrestling specialist Trey Dixon. I’m pretty sure Trey’s waist is just about exactly the circumference of one of Logan’s upper thighs. This was essentially a fork in the road for Logan’s homoerotic wrestling career (long may it live), because if Trey had conquered the pornboy, it would have been time to tattoo the word “jobber” across his amazing ass.

And while there would have been avalanches of humiliation involved, I say there’d have been no shame. I love a hot jobber. Even the ones who resent the label inhabit a time honored, essential role in pro wrestling iconography, and selling a crash and burn suffering is not something just anyone can pull off. But Logan took the way less traveled by, unleashing his monster quads in one of the most heart pumping, most satisfying matches I’ve watched in quite a while.

1433_lg — Trey’s tongue takes a very close 2nd place this month.

Full kudos to Trey for more than carrying his weight in this Greek tragedy of lustful ambition crushed, wrung out to try, and reshaped into a subservient, worshipful trophy of his new muscle god. I came so close to making him a tandem title holder, something I’ve done only once before. There’s that sizzling passion Trey embodies that, once finally bent to Logan’s will, makes me insanely jealous of his tongue. Even a shade less enthusiasm, just one square inch of Logan’s magnificent muscles left untasted, and this match would be significantly less compelling.

h1412_lg — Like Trey’s body, this moment belongs to Logan.

But then Logan smiles. He chuckles at the sound of Trey’s pitiful whimpering, muffled from deep between Logan’s hairy thighs. The pornboy flexes his quads, and those incredible columns of granite seem to swallow Trey whole, as Logan props himself up on one elbow to soak in the glory of his power milking all fight and independent thought from his opponent’s rock solid body. I continue to say his supporting player is one of the hottest in the business. But this moment I just have to give to the triumphant coming out of a muscle god ring heel.

0442_lg — Get on your knees and prepare to worship, bitches!

It takes a lot to make me pass over a field like Mitch Colby, Rio Garza, Mason Brooks, Ty Alexander, Tyrell Tomsen, Austin Cooper, Big Muscle Daddy Matt Thrasher, and the like. And Logan Vaughn delivered a lot, and more than I’d dared to hope, exploiting his phenomenal assets to their most perfect advantage. I’m cuing up the climactic final act of Florida Fights 5 again right now, because I just can’t get enough of reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month, Logan Vaughn.

Who’s Your Daddy?!

September 10, 2015 wrestlebard2 Comments

I think Muscle Master Kevin at Muscle Domination Wrestling may have taken it personally when I mentioned in the past my predilection for seeing more mature muscle daddies beat down cocky young bucks (hello, Mitch Colby, let me introduce you to Alexi Adamov). Not to mention my fawning adoration of muscle daddy Matt Thrasher who became an instant infatuation starring in Daddy’s Home.

Well, daddy’s back in ZZZZZ 6, and he loves his gorgeous, big, beautiful muscles almost as much as I do. “Yeah, look at that,” Matt says, flexing for the camera. “Daddy’s got some big guns here! Daddy’s the Man!” True on all points, as far as I’m concerned. Fuck, I’m into this hunk hard. Salt-and-pepper hair across his chest and ass. Sensationally thick legs, meaty pecs. Deep, gravely baritone with a hint of kicking a bad smoking habit a couple of years ago. I’ve never really wanted to be anyone’s daddy or anyone’s boy, but I’d donate a kidney (I’ve got a spare, right?) to get in the ring with Big Daddy Matt with a bottle of baby oil and a certainty that that jock strap is coming off.

Matt2 — Big Daddy Matt Thrasher has grabbed the attention of Muscle Master Kevin.

Perhaps too much fawning attention from a blogger attracted a little too much of the wrong sort of attention at MDW. Muscle Master Kevin slips into the ring and steals up from behind big Matt. Silently he observes the gun show, smirking, studying. Then BOOM, he’s got his massive, bulging bicep wrapped around big Matt’s throat like an anaconda.

vlcsnap-2015-09-10-16h27m37s827 — “Oh, yeah, you’re looking pretty good…”

“Oh yeah, you are looking pretty good,” Kevin acknowledges. “Do you know what’s going to look a lot better, though? My meaty arms wrapped around your neck.” I have to admit, the pathos of watching my erotic champ get subdued is intensely provocative. I’m breathless, wanting Big Daddy Matt to rally. I want him to smother Kev’s ridiculously pretty babyface between his hairy pecs. I want Matt to grunt and growl and trap Kev’s head in a face-to-crotch headscissors and be forced to watch his big daddy yank out his meat and pound one out in victory.

But alas, this is MDW. This is Muscle Master Kevin’s kingdom, and there’s more than a whiff of inevitability about big Matt turning to jelly, a fraction too quickly, once Kev’s got him in his sights and, more to the point, in his sleeper. “You are a big boy,” Kevin concedes, “but all the big boys here need to get taught a lesson by Master Kevin.” While my heart is breaking watching my sex gladiator champ get owned, I’m happily surprised by the attention that MMK gives to Matt’s beautiful body. “All these big muscles right here,” Kevin slaps Matt’s bulging pecs. “All of them being manhandled by me!” Sometimes in the more sub-dom-forward scenarios as MDW, I’m left a little cold with the lack of explicit acknowledgement that these are two hot, muscled bodies locked together. MMK hands out praise by the eye dropper full, typically. So there’s something even more pleasurable that he acknowledges repeatedly what a fucking big, powerful, hunk of a mature man Mattie is.

Kevin also acknowledges he’s followed Matt’s career at MDW. He knows what a dominant muscle daddy he’s been. He knows how he’s not just crushed the ankle biter competition, but shoved his big, fat cock down their throats. And the humbled pups have loved every second. “Thing is, Big Daddy Matt, I’m not just any young muscle,” Kevin warns him, rousing him once again for more muscle humiliation. “I’m The Young Muscle!” He flexes in his face, but Matt’s too groggy to appreciate the view. “How does it feel to be dominated by that young muscle?” Matt’s too fucked up already to answer. So it sort of feels like MMKevin is really taunting me and my stated crush on watching big muscle daddyies like Matt take young studs to school and back. He isn’t just dethroning my sex gladiator champ, he’s rubbing my face in it. “I can do whatever I want with you now,” Kevin snarls. “I can do whatever the fuck I please!” He grabs Matt’s massive biceps and squeezes possessively. “These biceps are mine. Your body is MINE!”

Matt6 — Maturity and experience go down for the count. Damn it.

Matt Thrasher’s fall from my sex gladiator champ podium to getting ground under MMK’s boot is sublime. It’s a squash, of course (did I mention this was MDW?). There’s precious little reason for this to happen in a ring, because battered Matt doesn’t move more than about 6 inches in any direction from the middle of the ring. Kevin’s army of fans, and I know they are legion, will love the relentless monologuing, but fuck, I’m wanting him to shut the fuck up long enough for me to hear big Matt’s groans and whimpers. But the scene tells the story of power and muscle spoiled, confidence shattered. It’s a crippling salvo in the ages old battle of youth and audacity against maturity and experience.

“Who’s your fucking daddy?” Kevin demands as Matt teeters on the edge of unconsciousness once again. “You are,” Matt mutters thickly.

“Who’s your fucking master!?” Kevin barks. “You’re my master,” my conquered sex gladiator champ mumbles in heart wrenching honesty.

Ring Virgin

September 9, 2015September 9, 2015 wrestlebard2 Comments

The first match on BG East’s new Florida Fights 5 compilations stars 2 friends of this blog, Ty Alexander and Mason Brooks. Well, let’s get real. The stars of this match are Ty’s bubble butt and Mason’s magnificent pecs topped off perfectly by his luscious nipples. At least, those are the elements that invariably hold my attention when either of these beautiful boys wrestles, and once again, that ass and those nips do not disappoint.

Frankly, honestly, I was marginally skeptical when I pushed play. For one thing, Mason is a standout mat wrestler with sensational amateur wrestling credibility, but we’ve never seen him set foot in a ring before. Translating mat excellence to ring success is tough (just ask beefy newbie Adam Atom). More than just tough when it comes to tallying victories, it’s tough for a lot of guys to adapt to the geography and scale of the ring. Engaging ring action is 3 dimensional, with as much drama and sell happening on their feet and in the air as on the mat. It demands more movement than the tight confines of, say, the Wrestle Shack or the BG East mat room. If everything happened scrambling on hands and knees in the middle of the ring, I’d think of it as a waste of a ring. And particularly a waste of ring ropes, turnbuckles, and that sensational liminal space just beyond the ropes where audacity and lawlessness exponentiate the potential of a ring match into those homoerotically thrilling elements of psychological domination, humiliation, and sadistic brutality. Of course, Ty’s been learning the ropes of ring wrestling since his debut with BG East, quickly turning into a very popular jobber with a beautiful booty and a sensational sell. But pitting him against a ring virgin like Mason could have produced a disappointing mismatch in both the sell and the exploitation of all that ring wrestling can offer to a homoerotically turned eye like mine.

h0119_lg — Mason can take possession of that ass on the mat at any time.

And then Mason does what Mason does, and I’m instantly so fucking into him! Of the things that I love about Mason, his sharpness has got to be at the top of the list. Well, right underneath his nipples. But that smirk and his Philosophy 404 approach to mat banter and taunts turn me on so damn delightfully. By all rights, Ty should be the upperclassman here. And he tries to pull out the thump-the-newbie card as the match unfolds, “teaching” Mason a collar and elbow start. But someone, and I’m guessing his initials are “KL,” has clearly been tutoring Mason in making the jump into the ring smooth as silk, and there’s just no denying the hot, heart pumping delight of Mason hazing the fuck out of his slack jawed, beautifully assed opponent.

h0504_lg — Mason’s got a handle on what fans love so much about Ty.

“The Boss tells me that I should give you a work out in the ring,” Mason explains when Ty is perplexed to find this mat expert perched atop a turnbuckle waiting for him. “Wait, did he say ‘work out,’ or ‘work over?'” Mason smirks, hopping off the turnbuckle and approaching the notorious jobber. Ty’s assets are both obvious and easily underestimated. If you follow him on Facebook, you know that he’s been on a terror lately to build muscle mass, to increase his stamina, to button down his smooth core in order to be taken more seriously in the ring. He’s so pretty, it’s little wonder he’s been feeling the need to square off some of his round edges a bit. But his fans love him because he wrestles all in. He’s thrown his body fearlessly in the way of seasoned heels twice Mason’s size, and he suffers with that authenticity that grabs you by the base of the balls. Yeah, fans love the smooth, pretty preppy crushed and spoiled. And his ass. Fans really love that ass.

h0103_lg — Mason is “starting to get the hang of this.”

There’s a little narrative around Mason demonstrating he can spank that ass at will with classic amateur wrestling, inspiring a pissed off Ty to challenge the ring virgin to wrestle like a pro. The moment Mason bounces off the ropes and nearly rips Ty’s pretty head off his neck with a full speed clothesline, it’s clear that although Mason may be a ring virgin, he’s well lubed.

0108_lg — Mason knows what the ropes are good for.

My favorite exchange in the epiphany of Mason completely owning the ring and his opponent’s ass is when Ty is spitting mad with his arms tied up in the ring ropes. Mason takes his time, which could just be that novice need to think it through, but manages to turn the simmer up to a roiling boil in my crotch. He punches Ty’s gut, checking out how that fitness regimen is coming along. Along the way, he tugs heartily at Ty’s red trunks to multiply the impact of his fists pounding viciously into the kid’s gut. Fuck, I love the trunk pull gut punch. Fuck, I love that Mason picks that up like he’s been tying chumps in the ropes and yanking on their trunks for decades.

But then Mason shoves his mouthwatering (literally, I’m wiping drool from the corners of my mouth just writing about it right now) pecs in Ty’s face and smacks down some super sweet muscle domination. “What do you think of my chest?” he asks. I don’t think Ty answers him, but I can’t be entirely sure because I’m shouting at the screen, “I fucking love your chest, Mason!” Soaked in sweat, he humiliatingly drags Ty’s pretty face back and forth across his beautiful pecs. “Do you want a chest like mine?” Mason asks the would be gym bunny. Ty is impotently furious, tied up and forced to be Mason’s plaything. The only thing that could make this moment hotter would have been for Ty to have been forced to suck on one of those priceless doubloons Mason calls his nipples.

0518_lg — Mason stays on script like the pro he is.

There’s a sensation pairing here of Mason’s unhurried, scientific sadism and Ty’s increasingly unhinged, panicked agony. As we’ve seen in his mat work, Mason is chill even as sweat pours down the crevasse between his worship-worthy pecs. How is it possible I can’t find a vial of that perspiration on eBay? There’s a calmness about him that compliments his relentless, savage torture to perfection. But as any fan knows, it takes a bitter, frustrated, increasingly terrorized until finally screaming in agony and complete submission sort of opponent to truly exploit the homoeroticism of this type of match. Ty is losing his shit even as Mason is beating it out of him with total control and fabulous presence.

There’s a sleeper to seal the deal, but before that is my second favorite moment in this match, when Mason hoists his toy across his shoulders and parades Ty around the ring. I don’t know if Mason thinks of the rack as his signature hold, but I’m beginning to. It shows off everything that’s so right about Mason’s body, while driving home that most homoerotic of plot points, signaling that one ambitious young hunk is now completely under the control and at the mercy of his opponent. Mason’s sweet pecs glistening with sweat. His dapper dan haircut matted across his forehead. Ty’s bronzed body hanging limply, his arms bobbing up and down as Mason shifts his weight from foot to foot. It’s not quite as tasty as the same maneuver applied to Drake Marcos when both studs were stripped naked in Passion & Punishment. But the same hold set within the context of the pro wrestling ring is definite value added for me.

What I’m left with at the end of this match, other than an empty water bottle and a hot shower, are two things. First, we know for a fact that young Ty, while a phenomenal jobber, can at least at moments hold his own in the ring. I hope we see Ty in fewer squashes, against more opponents with whom he can show off what those meaty thighs can do and that boatload of brutal beatings has taught him. Second, there will remain a shadowed corner of sadness in my soul until I get to see Mason Brooks climb back in the wrestling ring and continue to live into the sensational, personality-forward wrestling character he embodies who has never shined quite so bright as when he was surrounded by ring ropes.

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