Author: wrestlebard

I'm a gay man with an active imagination.

Wall of Meat

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Jeremy “Stonewall” Stevens v Marcus “Titan” Ruhl
Having recently been wooed back to dishing out cash to watch pornboys wrestle for fuck stakes over at Naked Kombat, I’ve been wondering if I’d regret it.  Honestly, I think this is the fourth time I’ve started a new subscription with NK, after being tempted beyond my power to resist, and then losing interest from either uninspired action or, most recently, their drastic roll back of new releases.  For what is arguably the most spontaneous homoerotic wrestling format in production, NK has at times veered into surprisingly formulaic territory.  Even the pornboys can start to look alike and blur in my memory.  And then there’s this week’s new release: Marcus “Titan” Ruhl v Jeremy “Stonewall” Stevens.
Marcus “Titan” Ruhl – 5’11”, 200 pounds, first time on NK
It’s as if NK read my recent post on my on-again/off-again infatuation with twinks and dropped 5’11”, 200 lbs Marcus “Titan” Ruhl in my lap and dared me to try to even think about, much less lust over a twink.  Holy shit, this kid looks huge!  They claim he’s just 5 pounds heavier than pectacular Jeremy Stevens, but I tell you that’s bullshit.  Jeremy looks incredibly fuckable, as always, and I could get lost for days finding more crevices to grind on Mr. Stonewall.  But rookie Ruhl is nothing short of a sex gladiator muscle beast!
Marcus Ruhl looks like he’s trying to decide whether to jump Jeremy from behind in the middle of “Stonewall’s” pre-match testimonial.
In the pre-match interview, Jeremy tries to talk trash by referring to Ruhl as “just a wall of meat,” which sort of strikes me like saying his opponent is “just going to kick my ass.”  Typically, NK boys remain stonefaced in the background when their opponents are doing their pre-match testimonials, but Ruhl can’t keep a straight face.  Jeremy’s prediction of climbing that wall of meat and making him his bitch makes me snicker a little, too.  Has he even looked over his shoulder at the beast behind him!? Marcus’ rookie testimonial presents his sexy, deep-throated accent along with his contemptuous sneer as he (again, atypical of NK) looks over his shoulder and rolls his eyes at the finger-food appetizer behind him trying to throw back his shoulders and not look like he’s already doing spinchter exercises in preparation for getting plowed.  “What do I think of my opponent?” Ruhl muses.  “I bench press more than him.  He’s going to get it.”

Marcus Ruhl starts to give it to instantly winded Jeremy Stevens.

In one of the worst first rounds I’ve seen, Jeremy not only doesn’t climb that wall of meat as predicted, he can’t even manage to earn more than 4 NK points.  Ruhl is just incredible to watch.  With each of his thighs about as thick as Jeremy’s waist, Marcus’ center of gravity is somewhere below his navel, which when you get a load of the insanely huge pecs and upper arms he’s sporting, should make you gasp.  He admitted in his testimonial that he has no formal combat experience, but he’s “been in a couple of street fights” (I pity the streets).  It shows, with some woodenness, lack of initiative, and bull-in-the-china shop approach to every hold and move.  But then again, when you’re a bull the size of Marcus Ruhl, a lack of finesse and technique can be forgiven.

Jeremy thinks he’s got the wall of meat pulled down, but Ruhl muscles back up again!

He’s all over Jeremy early going, and with that mass on top of him, Jeremy is worn out pushing the boulder uphill.  To start round 2, Jeremy tries to marshall the strategy he predicted would win him the match, swarming the wall of meat with speed, latching on legs and arms and dragging the massive man to the mat.  And then, as if to mock his opponent’s “wall of meat” comment, Ruhl muscles himself up to his knees, pauses, and then powers the rest of the way up to his feet with his 195 pound opponent still latched on.  Holy fuck, the power is mesmerizing, watching this happen not once, but twice, and perhaps Jeremy is mesmerized as well, because he loses further ground by the end of round 2, trailing the mighty beast 11 to 24.

Bulging muscles glisten in oil
As if to make certain I was paying attention, NK staged this match to climax (for me, anyway) with an all-nude oil wrestling round (I’m a proponent of more oil wrestling in today’s homoerotic wrestling scene).  Marcus’ already intoxicating body turns unbelievably even sexier with a liberal coat of baby oil making his bulges glisten under the overhead lights.  Again, I feel like I need to clarify that Jeremy is fucking stunning in oil as well.  But I have a hard time tearing my eyes away from the marinated wall of meat staring him down.

Jeremy Stevens runs headlong into a marinated wall of meat

Marcus Ruhl does not have a competition bodybuilder physique (and you know how hypnotizing I can find one of those in a wrestling match).  No, Ruhl’s incredible mass isn’t exactly pretty or aesthetically proportioned.  His dimpled ass jiggles a bit.  His head-to-toe meat is liberally marbled and succulent.  A big, bruiser football daddy like this does not always speak to me, but Marcus Ruhl’s baby oiled body is roaring out a scream that’s absolutely deafening.

Jeremy’s got the tiger by a mouthwateringly gorgeous tail!

All that mouthwatering mass Ruhl carries finally seems to slow him down, along with a difficulty keeping a handle on the slippery “little” fucker who seems to have an ever so slight edge in managing the lubricant.  The mighty man getting controlled, even briefly, including losing back points, getting wrapped up and made to struggle, is a little slice of heaven.

Grade “A” beef!
There’s a relentlessness about Ruhl that’s incredible to watch.  He promised to “steamroll” his “little” opponent, and there’s an inevitability about him when he works up even a moment of momentum.  Like trying to stop a landslide, Jeremy’s fucked long before round 4.  And there just isn’t an angle from which Ruhl’s oiled body fails to make me gasp.  His triceps require their own zip codes (each!).  His forearms could give Jonny Firestorm a run for his money (please).  And as incredible as is his upper body, it’s his ass and legs that are most astonishing for me.

Ruhl parks his truck on Jeremy’s chin
If he had just managed to snap those telephone poles around his opponent’s noggin, it would have been lights out for lovely Jeremy.  Really, scissoring those beasts around anything on his opponent would have surely ended in something broken or unconscious, leaving me screaming “headscissors!!!” at the screen throughout.  But no, not once does he seriously snap those soul-crushing thighs around anything.  Please, please someone pull this rook to the side and introduce him to the weapon of ass destruction that his body is! 
Cheek to cheek
Fortunately, Ruhl does plant those massive, motorboat-ready glutes down on Jeremy’s head, pinning the lucky bastard’s cheek to the mat and leaving him helpless to defend himself against Ruhl’s delight in squeezing and stroking Jeremy’s lovely cock.  Good god, talk about a rock and hard place!  This rook has serious potential that I’m praying to the gods of homoerotic wrestling will not be wasted on a one-hit wonder.  The meat dangling from his crotch is not one bit dwarfed by the wall of meat to which it’s attached, and the glimpses of snarky, sneering, I-will-plant-you-into-the-mat-like-a-walnut attitude convince me that this power hitter could strike terror into the hearts of young hopefuls in just about any homoerotic wrestling company that wooed him.

Superman in trouble?
And even then, when he’s technically in a bad way with Jeremy owning his back, threatening a quite literal rear naked choke, the concentrated power and poise in the dark haired gladiator is incredibly provocative.  If ever there was a body made for an erotic wrestling double-team, this has got to be it.  He’s got more than a little trouble staying focused with Jeremy’s mitt working the jackhammer, so just imagine the feast of putting another hungry grappler into the mix to scale the wall.  Both of these muscled studs can barely pry themselves off the mat in the waning seconds of the match, giving a very convincing look of hunks who’ve legitimately burned their tanks of gas.
Who’s meat now, bitch!?
Jeremy makes up major ground in round 3, but still is nowhere near digging himself out of the hole he earned in the first 2 rounds.  After time is called and they take neutral positions to await the announcement of the final score, Jeremy’s hot, rippled abs heave and puff like bellows.  The look of exhaustion, uncertainty, perhaps a touch of fear is impossible to miss on his face.  Ruhl just looks like he’s staring down a quarter-pounder after a 24-hour fast.  The official announces that Jeremy’s ass belongs to the Titan with a 32-27 victory.

The thrill of victory, the taste of defeat

Round 4 starts the way you expect if you’ve seen NK: a lingering, dominating blow job with the loser on his knees.  As for me, I tend to fast forward through this bit.  Watching a blow job is like indy car racing in my mind.  Yawns for 199 laps and then a shot of adrenaline when the white flag flies for the final lap.  Admittedly, rookie Ruhl keeps me entertained with some nasty face slapping across his conquest’s cheeks.  It starts a little playful, but damn, he really nails the blond bombshell a few times.  Both boys’ rods remain at full attention, so the corporal punishment laced oral is clearly turning all three of us on.

Full on muscle worship at Naked Kombat!

Making me think Ruhl may be a rookie-savant, he suddenly flings Jeremy’s face to the mat. “You know what?  Why don’t you get down there and worship this muscle-body, you loser!”  He slaps him in the face, adding, “like you mean it!”  Jeremy doesn’t actually have to be told twice.  Starting with Ruhl’s left foot, he licks and sucks slowly up that gargantuan leg.  And yet again, I wouldn’t have believed it, but I swear Ruhl’s body becomes several hundred times sexier with Jeremy’s obviously enthusiastic muscle worship session.  Inch by inch he climbs the wall of meat, his tongue flickering and stroking, tasting the incredibly sweet taste of defeat.  When he finally reached his vanquisher’s left nipple, Ruhl flexes his huge left bicep as Jeremy’s eyes are riveted by the sight.  Dropping his arm, still flexed, at his side, silently he commands his loser to worship it, and this time Jeremy doesn’t even have to be told once.  While the loser opens wide and bathes every inch of the upper arm with his tongue, Ruhl’s left hand slides across Jeremy’s muscled shoulders, squeezing and stroking appreciatively.  The mutual hunger at this point is simply a thing of beauty.

“I spent most of the time trying to get out from underneath the truck!”
Two big, aggressive muscleboys fucking works, of course.  When Ruhl forces Jeremy to climb on top of him and ride the beast, the blond bombshell can’t restrain himself.  He cums across that massive chest and sprays the winner in the face.  Marcus is none too flattered, flinging Jeremy off of him and returning the favor, with Jeremy obediently kneeling for the muscleman facial.  In the post-match testimonials, Ruhl claims that he’s never been muscle worshipped before, which is a crime against nature as far as I’m concerned.  “This is something I’m into now!” he says enthusiastically in answer to the question of whether he’d return for more matches at NK (I want a signed contract!).   Jeremy gets the last word about what it was like to battle the wall of meat.  “I spent most of the time trying to get out from underneath the truck!”  Most memorable moments from the mat, Jeremy?  “Both times I got behind him and he stood up!  That was pretty impressive!”
…to say the least…

A Contract Worth Signing [Guest Blogger: Alex]

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 Like most people, I hate signing contracts. Whether it’s for cell phones, cable or the gym, companies love to lock us in then treat us like crap. BGEast is the exception, of course. They have a contract I was happy to sign. Not just once, but a whopping nine times.

For those that don’t know, The Contract is a fantastic series that stars Brad Rochelle, a true superstar. If there were a Hall of Fame for BGEast icons, he’d get in on the first ballot for sure. This is Brad at his best – believable as face and heel, victim and victor, dominator and jobber.

Brad gets duped

Brad gets punished
Brad’s had enough

Brad’s in charge

I love Brad’s nearly unmatched range in skill, attitude, flexibility and personality. He’s at his bendy best throughout. The beatdown from the Enforcer stands out for me, as does Brad’s initiations of studs like Alexi and Braden.

I love the long form storytelling aspect, which is so unique. Rock Hard Wrestling and Thunder’s Arena do have wrestlers reference past encounters, but it’s not quite the same feel.

I love the evolution of Brad’s character during the series from hapless victim to malevolent mastermind.

And I love Brad’s opponents. They include a who’s who of BGEast talent, from established stars to emerging talent to debuts by future favorites:

Kid Leopard

BBW

Aryx Quinn
Jonny Firestorm
The Enforcer
Cameron Matthews
Alexi Adamov
Braden Charron

Unless I missed one, the ending for The Contract is left to the viewer to imagine. Brad gets ratted out, as KL is told what’s going on, but his wrath is never seen.

I’d love to see more series like this. Given the way these things work, what any company should do is either complete the entire series in one filming or at least film a concluding chapter in case the rest never gets filmed. I think people would be forgiving of changing bodies and hair styles to get closure. We’re used to it.

What are your thoughts? Love or hate The Contract? Would you like to see more series? Weigh in through the comments!
~Alex

Filling Niches

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I’m always fishing for opportunities to interview the movers and shakers in front of and behind the cameras of homoerotic wrestling.  A couple of days ago, I enjoyed an extended chat with someone moving and shaking both in front of and behind the camera, Muscle Domination Wrestling’s Muscle Master Kevin.  I found Kevin to be frank, insightful and exceedingly articulate, not to mention a relentless turn-on.  We tackled some of the stickiest of topics in homoerotic wrestling these days, and I’m quite confident that not everyone will agree (with Kevin or me).  However, I appreciate Kevin setting the record straight from the perspective of a bodybeautiful entrepreneur seizing a slice of the homoerotic wrestling market and delivering what his fans are, quite literally, begging for.  As you’ll read, I made my own suggestions of what fans might be craving, so I hope you’ll consider joining my campaign and email your support of my ideas to Kevin at konkara23@hotmail.com.  Kevin also wanted me to pass along that MDW is always looking for wrestlers ready to walk on the MDW side of things, so if you’re in MDW territory, and if you dare, let him know you’re game.
—————-
Today’s guest: Muscle Master Kevin, Boss, Sir… Kevin

Bard: I’m extremely grateful for this opportunity to sit down and chat with you about my favorite topic: hot, erotic wrestling! What should I call you? Muscle Master Kevin? Kevin? Boss? Sir?

Kevin: Hey Bard, I appreciate the chance to have this discussion. I certainly have accumulated quite the number of titles since joining the scene, but we can save those for the ring, Kevin works fine.

Bard: Excellent. Kevin it is. I’ve been tracking Muscle Domination Wrestling for a while now, excited to see what you new kids on the block will bring to the wrestling scene. When did you formally launch MDW and what inspired you to venture into the erotic wrestling scene?

The Boss of Muscle Domination Wrestling

Kevin: Muscle Domination Wrestling’s initial launch was around six months ago, though we have come a long way since then, both in terms of content and design, improving the layout drastically several times, the most recent coinciding with the launch of season 3. I always had the desire to launch a sub dom themed wrestling site, but it wasn’t until some of my friends who had gotten involved with the scene told me just how huge it was that I decided to take the plunge and invest in MDW to bring something unique to the table.

Bard: I, for one, want to thank your friends for planting that seed of an idea, then. What would you say is the that “something unique” that MDW brings to the table?

Kevin: MDW is unique in that it touches on every niche while also exploring new territory. Not only do we feature everything from traditional wrestling to hardcore sub dom themes that many have been aching for, but you’ll also find features such as our cinematic blood match “the boss sees red”, as well as supernatural scenes like the fan favorite vampire match between Damien Rush and myself. And this is only the tip of the iceberg!

Immortal Vampire Kevin controls Damien Rush in body and soul for MDW VIP members

Bard: I have to say that your vampire match with Damien is one of the most entertaining, captivating ring moments I’ve seen in a long time. It’s at least as much a piece of compelling performance art as it is seriously sexy wrestling. Before I ask you more about MDW, can you tell me more about your history prior to MDW? I’m sure I saw you on YouTube building a fan base before well before you launched your own site, right?

Kevin documented his bodybuilding progress on YouTube

Kevin: I entered the Youtube scene when I was 15 to document my bodybuilding progress under the name Chaoserver, though it was a year before I got involved with doing webcam shows. After around two years my dominant steak started to show and fans loved it, giving birth to Muscle Master Kevin. It didn’t take long for my attitude to establish me as the number 1 Muscle Master in the sub dom and MastER slave scene. In fact it could be said many viewed me as the Boss of the scene, making that the perfect title to add to my long list when I launched my personal site and MDW.

Happy belated birthday, Kevin.
So happy that you’re legal!

Bard: I hope you don’t mind me asking how old you are now, because you’ve got the body of a timeless god of Olympus but you’ve got that insanely gorgeous, dangerously youthful blue-eyed babyface. Please tell me that I’m not violating any state laws as my imagination wanders into lustful flights of fancy studying your rocking body.

Kevin: If that breached the law I’d know quite a few criminals! I’m freshly 22, my birthday was on the 6th.

Bard: Happy birthday! I shall unleash all of my lustful fantasies from any constraints of guilt or social propriety now. Please tell me that you did something insanely sexy on your birthday. Youth, that body, those eyes, that attitude… please, please tell me that did something worth making that a day to live in infamy!

Kevin: I certainly put this young body to use, but I’ll spare you the details, although I know there are some who would find details of my sex life fascinating!

Bard: Yes. Fascinating is one word for it. I’m glad to hear youth (and beauty) are not wasted on the young, in any case. Going back briefly to your YouTube days, I have a good friend and friend of this blog who recently told me that he remembers following you for a while on YouTube but getting turned off when he heard you throw down the word “fag” a lot. We’ve been having some lively conversations in the homoerotic wrestling blogosphere lately about the role of homophobic slurs in the genre. Is it true that you have (or still do) use the word “fag,” and if so, what’s your take on the backlash that some gay wrestling fans have to it?

Satisfying the niche

Kevin: I’m glad you asked, because I think this is an extremely important topic. Yes I’ve used the word, and still do in certain matches. However it is important to note this is done to satisfy the niche in the scene who crave this, or are at least curious, just as it was done in my Youtube days. The notion that I’m a gaybasher or advocate it couldn’t be more off when I’ve dedicated the last half year of my life to producing homoerotic content to satisfy them. I understand people can be sensitive, but it would be a tragedy for someone to overlook some of our great scenes because of words used in other matches directed at a niche they aren’t interested in.

Bard: I agree with you that this is an important topic, and one that can easily be oversimplified. Can you say more about the “niche” that crave watching you use words like fag? What are you hearing from fans from that niche, and in what context does it come up in your work?

Muscle Master Kevin aims to please hardcore subs.

Kevin: There are a group of people who like seeing content with the use of “fag” because they identify themselves as one, or at least do when they are viewing adult material. I’ve encountered people who find this appealing since I was 15, and the numbers have only grown since I’ve entered the wrestling scene. You’ll notice that I don’t say “Oh you’re gay, that makes you a fag” because the implication isn’t all gay people are fags, just the group who are hardcore subs and identify themselves as one’s are.

Bard: I’ve often suspected this may be the case, that the domination/submission kinksters out there may experience this language very differently from those of us more in the wrestling kink side of things. Your term “niche” here makes a lot of sense to me. I think the friction arises where people have a strong visceral reaction to words like “fag,” and those reactions seriously diverge. As for me, I find it a major turn off to hear “fag.” It carries weight that seems to imply that to be gay is shameful. But I can imagine that there are people whose erotic tastes fill that word with different baggage, for whom it feeds there erotic desire to be dominated, controlled, and humiliated. The same trigger that makes me go limp and irked may very well be exactly the same trigger that makes someone else hard as a board and fully engaged in their sexual fantasy. It makes me wonder if we’re talking about different niches within the same market, or if these are essentially different erotic genres. Woah, that just got deep, didn’t it?

Kevin: The reason I use niche is because even if the vocal triggers, and to the extent the moves used vary from these two types of matches are different, it is still gay oriented wrestling. You could separate them, and I’ve toyed with the idea of having two sections of my site, but then it gets tricky. For example some people love the “sir yes sir” type scenes, but not the “fag” ones, while others aren’t a fan of either and would rather it be kept to making the jobber yell “submit”. Even though it’s usually clear what matches will feature this kind of language I think the best solution is just making it as clear on the surface what someone can expect from a match- Perhaps a “hardcore” label indicating that it has “fags” being dished out, or otherwise extreme sub dom material. MDW is constantly evolving and that seems like it might be the next logical step.

Bard: I like that possibility a lot, being highly descriptive and having some sort of label. I remember an old index of gay wrestling products someone compiled that had different symbols for different types of content (mostly whether and what type of sex was included). That might be a cool format for a site like MDW that really straddles the primarily first-person-shooter sub-dom audience and the homoerotic wrestling audience. I actually think it’s cool that you’re taking your audience so seriously as to try to provide the content that folks are asking for. And I don’t think it’s your responsibility to be the kink-police for the people who seriously love your work. I do worry about the guys out there who can’t get off without being called a fag, because I’m tempted to pathologize them as internalized homphobes. But just because it turns me off doesn’t mean I understand why it turns someone else on, so I’m just hoping that that part of your audience really owns and is empowered by the irony of paying for (and thus “controlling”) a hot-bodied hunk to talk dirty and portray a dominator in that very mutually collaborative way that sub-dom fetish folks build the fantasies that work for them. For one of my readers whose totally into that sub-dom call-me-whore-call-me-fag fetish, what’s an MDW video they should definitely check out?

Kevin: I’m glad you agree the direction we’re heading in terms of labeling is a good one. And yes- our customers completely inform what we produce. Every week I am looking at what matches are hot and basing what we produce off that. The go to hardcore sub dom scenarios are my “cash rape” scenes in season 1/2, though the second one is certainly the more hardcore. My most hardcore, and probably territory I wont explore again is “Eternal Enslavement Imposed”(It unsettled the jobber genuinely, so that says something).

Bard: Good to know! Now on the wrestling side of things, I’d like to say that I’m a big, big fan of the wrestling ring that you introduced in season 2. I felt like that investment really raised MDW’s credibility and polish, and that’s not just because I’ve got a well-known bias for a pro wrestling ring. What would be your top picks for the homoerotic wrestling fanatic to get a good sense of what MDW brings to the scene? We’ve mentioned your vampire match with Damien, which rocked me hard. What’s a good sampling of MDW-style wrestling?

Kevin: I couldn’t agree more, and am glad we got it when we did, the product is much improved by its addition- We’ve had some fantastic matches in the new ring, for sure. Damien Rushes punishment series (Piledriver, and Power Move) is fantastic, with the latter being one of our hottest matches. Morgan Cruise and his match against the Hairy Russian Wrestler in Raw Sweaty Wrestling is a pro style match, featuring some of our best wrestling story telling. And for those looking for something extra hot, Ball Bash Jerk Off edition is as good as it gets, with the organic arousal resulting in an unexpected finish!

Damien Rush digs into his heel side as he delivers Power Move Punishment all over The Justin.

Bard: I haven’t seen them yet, but the teaser of Damien turning heel at MDW is enough to make me swoon. Tell that silver-spooned punk to give me the interview I’ve been begging him for for months! Are there any other examples of new products that you’re flying that came directly from fan feedback?

Kevin: It’s interesting you ask, because Damien Rush turning Heel, as well as the second installment of his punishment series was a direct result of fans wanting to see him dominate, and then loving the way he did it. Likewise my “Cash Rape” sequel was born from fans craving more, wanting it to be even more intense. The same can be said for the Ball Bash series, which we cant make enough of, as much as people love them! Lastly Bryce’s growing following promoted him to heel status, and he’s resolved to hone his technique to an art form in seasons to come!

Bard: Awesome. By any chance, has there been a big fan demand to see a homoerotic wrestling blogger suck your nipples raw while squeezing your peaked biceps?

Kevin: Theres always been a demand for worshipping these perfect nips and veiny bis. After all my slogan is that in time all will serve me. If a certain blogger found himself in the MDW ring, The Boss would find some way to make you do just that, though there might be more pain than pleasure.

“…these perfect nips and veiny bis.”


Bard: Holy fuck, I just shed a little tear right then! Don’t be surprised if you start getting a deluge of appeals for this scenario, because I’m starting a campaign posthaste to make that happen! Where is MDW headquartered, so I know where to show up?

Kevin: The domination happens in the Boston area- So any wrestlers who think they have what it takes to compete in the MDW ring can contact the Boss, and head on in to show what they’ve got!

Bard: Boston! Damn, what do they put in the water up there to turn out such an incredible depth of homoerotic wrestling!? So I’m a little verklempt with the vision of your “perfect nips and veiny bis” dancing in my head. Give me some more details about your insane proportions and assets.

Genetic gifts and hot, hard work.


Kevin: The nips were a genetic gift, but the thick, striated, and often hairy chest I’ll accredit to lots of hours in the gym. I’ve always strived for a nice V shape, a powerful torso cascading down into a thin waist. Muscle worshippers wont miss my shredded tris, or built back either, especially when they’re being used to make someone submit!

Bard: Excuse me while I dab some sweat from my brow…. okay, got it. Tell me some numbers. I’m a numbers nerd, so how tall are you? How thick are those biceps? How ridiculously narrow is that waist? When you’re sitting on my (um, I mean an opponent’s) chest, what kind of weight is bearing down on my (um, your opponent’s) ribs?

180 lbs., 5’10’, 29 inch waist, 17.5″ upper arms.

Kevin: 180 pounds of a 5 foot 10 stud would be bearing down on that jobber, and if they tried to push me off they’d be pushing against abs on a 29 inch waist until I decided to finish them with an RNC, using my 17.5 inch bis to finish them off when I’d heard enough cries of submission.

Bard: Fuck, yes, I love numbers! That image will be keeping me up late tonight, I guarantee. And those eyes of yours… surely those icy baby-blues are photoshopped in these truly stunning photos you sent me to help illustrate this interview. Thanks for these, by the way, but tell me if your eyes are seriously that blue.

Impossibly blue eyes.

Kevin: You’ll just have to watch some of my wrestling clips now wont you? I may be the Boss but I haven’t quite managed the art of photoshopping videos. I’m sure they are compelling you now to go check out some of my matches!

Bard: You’ve pretty much guaranteed that I’m checking out more of your matches now. I get the strong impression that you are far from just a pretty face and granite carved body of steel. What are some facts about you that MMK and MDW fans may not know? What are you passionate about apart from catering to the lusts and cravings of your fans?

Kevin: Probably the most surprising is that one of my primary hobbies is writing. I’m a man who needs a creative outlet, so when if theres not a story to tell in the ring you can bet I’m crafting one elsewhere. One day I suspect you’ll find something from the Master at your local Barnes and Nobles! In the meantime you can expect that creative passion to result in some matches unlike anything else out there.

Bard: I must say I expected there might be a literary side to Muscle Master Kevin. I want a signed copy when your first novel gets published. So I notice that you didn’t respond to my plea to get Damien Rush on the line, so short of that, tell me what’s going through your mind when you’re on top of him (as you have been many, many times), controlling his hot bod, squeezing out another ounce of agony, seeing the hint of panic rising in his eyes…. What does that moment do for you, to own another man like that with the cameras rolling and nearly every inch of your hard-earned body on display for hungry eyes?

Kevin: I’ve been dominating men since I was 16 in one way or another, so its felt natural to me, when dominating him, or anyone and everyone who steps into my ring. Just like it feels natural to make them submit while taping the spectacle for all to see. I’ll have to set you up with an interview with him or Tony Law Pendelton, both of whom have been on the receiving end of that control and domination.

Damien Rush camel clutches Tony Law in MDW Season 2: Ball Spank Abuse

Bard: Dominating looks like it comes naturally to you. thanks for passing along my interest in getting Damien and Tony on the line. I’d love to get some one on one time with either of them. You’ve been charming, provocative, titillating and inspiring, Kevin! Anything else you’d like fans to know before I let you go?

Kevin: I’d like to urge anyone who hasn’t checked us out in awhile to come see all the hot content, and that we are only going to be raising the bar with hardcore sweaty Muscle Domination Wrestling. I’m glad we linked up for this interview, and am sure it wont be the last.

Bard: I look forward to the next time! And when the fans demand that session with a blogger, you know how to reach me.

Muscle Master Kevin suited up to greet a certain blogger in his ring.

Who’s Counting?

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Neverland turns 4 years old today!  In some ways, it feels like 40 years, in other ways, it feels like 4 months.  The scope of what I do online in response to my infatuation with homoerotic wrestling has grown significantly since I posted my first post 4 years ago today.  Writing homoerotic wrestling fiction was, honestly, the first focus I brought, with neverland being primarily a vehicle for dissemination my interest in sharing fiction.  Since then, however, the fiction has taken a back seat to the blogging and promoting the outstanding ongoing scene of homoerotic wrestling productions and musing about my homoerotic wrestling fantasies that may, or may not, show up in a full-on piece of fiction.  In the last few months, I’ve been grieving that switch in priorities a bit.  If only I had more time for my writing, I’ve continually told myself. My goal of writing at least one new match a month has long ago been abandoned.  Happily, others with the writing bug have been contributing to the expanding library of homoerotic wrestling imaginations come to life in text (and choice graphic aids).  I think, with the maturity of 4 years under my belt, I’m coming to terms with the truth that blogging is feeding my kink and interest more than writing wrestling fiction.  I have a couple of fiction projects I’m very, very, very excited to be rolling out in the next couple of weeks, but otherwise, I think the 4th anniversary of neverland will mark a down shift in my intentions to write, to match the de facto truth that my attentions have strayed a bit from my fiction writing already.  So at the ripe old age of 4, I’m signaling my letting go of my grief over less fiction writing and my enthusiastic embrace of more time in neverland.
I’m playing Powerball in order to fuel my calling as an Eliad Cohen stalker!
And finally, as a birthday present to myself, I’m celebrating today with a focus on who, I think, may be the sexiest man who I’ve never seen in a homoerotic wrestling match: Eliad Cohen.  If I were a better (and especially richer) man, I’d be a full-on celebrity stalker of Eliad.  Sadly, his jet-setting schedule hosting Papa circuit parties across the globe far exceed my means to obsessively track him down.  On the other hand, fortunately, he is a generous Facebook poster, and my inner stalker is regularly sated with mouthwatering photos of this epic hunk going about his days, loving his family and friends, seeing the sights of the cities of the world, and, oh yeah, taking off his shirt… a lot.  Seriously, I think this man is as close to my physical ideal as any hunk I’ve ever seen.  If I had a category for my favorite non-wrestling hunk (don’t tempt me, you know how I like my lists), I believe it would be a close contest between Joe Manganiello and Eliad, with Eliad’s hairy chest and tats managing to just nose Joe into my “top contender” spot.  I’d donate a vital organ if it meant I could see Eliad climb into the BG East ring and put those insanely sexy muscles to the purpose they were, quite clearly, most naturally and meaningfully intended: wrestling another hardbodied hunk until one of them is stripped naked and worshipping the victor’s divine physique.
Quite possibly my physical ideal!
As an anniversary present for neverland (not really, but I can pretend), Eliad has posted this crotch-rousing tease of a video promoting (I think) another one of his Papa parties.  This is as close as I think I’ve ever seen what it would be like to watch him in a homoerotic wrestling match.  The performance piece features him and another muscleboy in gladiator gear… sort of… engaged in fantasy hand-to-hand combat… kind of.  There’s a poundingly hot gut punching montage in the credits, so be patient. Inexplicably in the heart of the video (full embed below), they abruptly rip off their utilikilts, and then Eliad demonstrates his status as a muscle god by blowing the head off of his opponent with a magic ball of fire.  Watch to the end, though, and you’ll see the gymbunny stud is quite fully alive and returns to Eliad’s side to begin to stroke his buliging, vascular muscles hungrily.  In other words, this is essentially a performance art version of pretty much 80% of homoerotic wrestling matches (hunks grapple, strip, total domination secured, and then erotic lust takes over).
Eliad’s dominance demonstrated, his muscle conquest returns to worship him (line starts behind me, bastard!)
To all of you who’ve made neverland a going concern, commenting, encouraging, challenging, linking, giving permissions for reposts, guest posting, and just being all around cool fellow journeyers in the wrestling kink universe, this anniversary is as much a celebration of you as it is an acknoweldgment of the passage of time or the accumulation of blog archives.  It continues to be a joy, and that (and, really, that alone) is what makes me fully expect to be celebrating year 5 exactly 12 months from now.

Me rindo!

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5’8″, 130 lbs, Rookie treat Lauden Sevior
I’ve been finding my eye captured lately by men who I lovingly classify as twinks.  There’s probably a more accurate, subtle and respectful way to refer to them, but I mean no disrespect.  Very lean, not thickly muscled but with that momentary coincidence of youth and cardio-tuned fitness, these are bodies that speak to me only when the mood strikes.  For some reason, lately the mood as been striking.
Gold Shaft works to possess every inch of Lauden’s lean body!

Case in point: Lauden Sevior’s BG East debut in Sunshine Shooters 6. He takes my breath away as he stretches out before his masked opponent, Gold Shaft, enters the room, and I’m as astonished at my reaction to him as I am at his obvious sexiness.  From some angles, there’s a Brad Pitt a la Thelma and Louise handsomeness about Lauden, but sweet Jesus, he’s so damn lean!  The flowing, shoulder-length locks and that the look of recent graduation from boyhood into downy, freshly sprouted chest hair makes my mouth water.  From Gold Shaft’s reaction when he walks in the room, I’m not the only one.  Even had we not already seen the cock-wrestling credentials of this masked stud, it’s impossible to miss the raw, testosterone fueled sensuality that pulses off his lovely, smooth body.  The contrast between this mysteriously and ominously masked cock-wrestling power-hitter and Lauden’s apparent achingly beautiful innocence is hot, hot drama!

Gold Shaft breaks the kid apart piece by piece!

Gold Shaft clearly needs a mouth stitched into that mask, because he’s so obviously famished to taste the tender corn fed veal dangled so tantalizingly in front of him.  Credit where due, Lauden slaps down some entirely respectable offense that makes me think that with a little more training and a lot more classes in the school of hard knocks, he could mount a dazzle and destroy strategy on some unsuspecting heel wannabe.  But he has two fatal flaws in his arsenal: his hot glutes and flowing locks simply demand for Gold Shaft to take possession of them.

Gold Shaft perches his golden shaft across the rookie’s baby face
Honestly, I don’t think there are a lot of rooks who get so erotically and entirely used their first time out of the gate.  Clearly, Gold Shaft has had that same hankering I’ve had.  The veteran spends days lustily squeezing the twinks lovely little ass.  He wedgies Lauden’s trunks up nice and high to get full contact with his milky white mounds.  The kid loses track of which is the ceiling and which is the floor along the way in the match, and the more vulnerable he gets, the more passionate Gold Shaft grows.  He grinds his crotch into the twink’s ass and across his face and against Lauden’s bulge and… well, everywhere.  
Gold Shaft can’t keep his fingers out of Lauden’s glowing locks

But it’s Gold Shaft’s lack of all self-conciousness or self-restraint when it comes to Lauden’s hair that transports me inside that white mask of his.  He runs his fingers through the twink’s locks everytime his hands wander anywhere near his head.  Gold Shaft seems lost in awed, dominating lust at the feel of his  baby-baby faced opponent’s hair wrapped up in a handy handle and used to perfection to drag Lauden humiliatingly off the mat, across the room, and plowed face-first into Gold Shaft’s monster bulge.  That body, that ass, those long, flowing locks were simply made for this moment of soul crushing wrestling domination at the hands of master artist who plays him to nothing short of perfection.

Lauden gets strummed like a ukulele! 

Damn, this kid is tormented and pleasured in such perfect harmony!  I mean, he’s putty in the hands of the terrifying masked god of some mythic homoerotic pantheon, but Lauden’s first go at homoerotic wrestling on camera documents the insanely pretty green rookie pounded into the depths of despair and almost hypnotically lifted to the heights of carnal pleasure such that the result is simply stunning to watch.  The persistent ebb and flow of brutal pain and dizzying ecstasy leave Lauden so entirely disoriented that there’s honestly very little left to the imagination when he’s dragged crawling on his hands and knees across the mat by the masked god who has taken full possession of what is guaranteed to be an obedient acolyte right in the middle of his initiation into the mysterious rights of homoerotic wrestling.

Gold Shaft continues his rites of initiation on the pretty rookie off camera

Here’s to hoping that Gold Shaft didn’t strike such terror into this tasty little biscuit that Lauden has been too seriously psychically/spiritually damaged to ever dare set foot in front of a BG East camera again.  Because I, for one, would like to be the first to suggest there’s nobody, but nobody more ideal to star in the next Hair Stakes match than Lauden versus Diego Diaz, both Latino beauties tempting fate to try not to be the first to scream “Me rindo!” before the clippers forcibly make him a shade less pretty.

That Look

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In Friday’s post, Alex posed some provocative questions about what’s said in a homoerotic wrestling match.  Specifically, whether hearing a wrestler taunt his opponent by asking if he’s “gay” (by implication meaning weak, wimpy, less than a real man, et.) is a turn-off or perhaps ought to be out of bounds for wrestling for a gay audience.  The post generated some fantastic conversation, which is exactly what I expect every time Alex puts pen to paper.  His thoughts, coupled with some images I’ve recently been obsessing over, reminded me of the flip side of the equation, as well: when without so much as a word, a wrestler turns me on full force in an instant with just a look.
Kevin Crowes looks pleased.
The recent photo releases from Can-Am of my long-time favorite wrestler emeritus, Rusty Stevens, in Pro Sex Fight 4 against Kevin Crowes, has been making me sweat buckets.  But this particular shot of angelic beauty Kevin sweaty, pumped, and swinging pipe caught my attention.  Specifically, look at the look on his face!  Fuck that’s hot.  He’s been taking a mauling at the expert hands of Rusty for eons at this point in the match.  It’s looked like Rusty’s got this adonis crushed and sprinkled over an intensely tasty dish of sex served hot, until deceptively pretty Kevin catches the veteran sex wrestling champ getting a tad too cocky, a smidge too over-confident, and just as Rusty is sizing up the slice of beef he’s about to eat whole, Keven lays him down, strips him naked, and starts pounding the hell out of Rusty’s balls.  In an oh-how-the-mighty-have-fallen moment, Kevin takes a strutting victory lap around his opponent’s vulnerably body.  All that viciousness, all the bile, all that contempt and scorn pouring out of Rusty earlier is doused, and the look of pleasure on Kevin’s face sells a whole novel’s worth of story to me.  The abs, quads, and simply gorgeous cock don’t hurt his case either!
Gabriel Ross looks hungry
Honestly, I’ve been trying my best to watch BG East’s Wrestle Shack 16 all the way through, but fuck me if I can manage to get more than about 5 minutes at a time watched before I’m stoked into delirium and exhaust myself entirely.  Holy fuck, Lorenzo Lowe (I don’t give a damn what his frat brother’s call him, he’ll always be bespectacled Lorenzo to me) is an insanely sexy little scrapper.  But damn, damn, DAMN when he’s getting his crotch ripped apart with muscle bunny fallen archangel Gabriel Ross leaning over top of him, I’m helpless.  The look of calm, chill, confident, hungry pleasure on Gabriel’s face contrasted with Lorenzo’s agony-twisted visage, is worth about 10 orgasms (and that’s not counting the one Lorenzo’s about to pop).
Ethan Andrews looks delighted.

Rock Hard Wrestling was the first to make me an Ethan Andrews believer.  Like the catty bitch I can often be, I once questioned whether Ethan was rock hard enough to qualify to be in their stable of pretty pretty muscle boys.  Ethan made me eat my words and lose load after load climbing into the RHW ring and wringing symphony after symphony out of his bulging, pumped opponents like a maestro.  Ethan tends to give better than he gets at RHW, and the look of serene delight that inevitably plays across his handsome face as he makes another gym bunny scream like a tantruming two-year old makes my heart skip a beat.  He flashes that smile at so many pitifully wailing opponents, but possibly never as entertainingly as the moments in which he catches handsome powerhouse Jake Jenkins by surprise.

Tak looks ready for his close up.

I keep coming back to Thunder’s for the humor and the subtext, despite lapses in good taste and common sense like Alex mentioned on Friday.  One of the TA wrestlers who completely catches me by surprise by how compelling a character I find him is lean, blond, doe-eyed twink Tak.  He plays twink among the muscle gods beautifully, and perhaps precisely because he stands out in the TA crowd, his lovely, lean bod sorts me out extra hard. But when Tak has both hands wrapped around the throttle and another gym bunny muscleman is at least momentarily getting humiliated by a blond, blue-eyed, babyface lightweight twink, Tak gives some sexy sexy face! His look is somewhere between a champion bronco rider eight seconds into his ride and a seasoned pornboy a split second before his money shot.

Like Alex suggested, it doesn’t take a lot to suck the air right out of a homoerotic wrestling match. Just a word, an implication of genuine contempt for the audience that slapped down plastic to watch, and at least some of us find our buzz killed. And at least for me, the opposite can also be true. As much of a fan of trash talk as I am, some of the sexiest moments that sends fireworks exploding in my head are entirely about one compelling, silent look that tells the most homoerotic wrestling story of all.

What, are you gay? [Guest Blogger: Alex]

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Alex is back to take the reins here at neverland today, and I want to thank him again for pitching in.  His insights are spot on; his eye is incredibly astute; and his writing is inspiring.  His topic today is one echoed in other posts on this blog and similar ones with increasing frequency.  It isn’t one we all agree about, by any means, but it’s an important topic in the “evolution” of us all about the place of gay men in society.  And for the record, I agree with Alex 110% here…

————
What, are you gay?

Be warned, I’m getting on my soapbox.

Words matter. Even in the intensely physical world of wrestling, words make a difference. They can amplify a moment or kill the mood. I’ve just experienced the latter.

Vinny is the man who brought me back to Thunder’s Arena. I hadn’t even gone to the website since Halloween. However, one pic posted on Joe’s Ringside blog drew me back in. I’ve since bought all four of Vinny’s matches.

Now, I’m not happy again. During his fight with Dakota, Vinny insults his opponent by asking him, “What are you, gay?”

Ugh. Why couldn’t he keep his trap shut?

Maybe it’s in character that Vinny, whose Thunder’s persona is an amoral meathead, uses “gay” as a pejorative. So far, he’s already been accused of stealing a laptop and protein powder, stiffing his housemate on the rent and hitting a car then leaving the scene of the accident. Not like he’s depicted as a hero. Vinny is 100% heel.

And wrestling is often politically incorrect with heels – full of every kind of stereotype.

But for me, it was an immediate turn off. As in turn off my iPad and be done with the match. It seems weird to me that a company targeting a gay audience lets that slide. There are plenty of other ways to insult someone. Doesn’t it seem immediately wrong? Admittedly, I boycott companies at the drop of a hat. Maybe most gay wrestling fans won’t care, but I really think they should.

And yes, I am aware I’m probably selling videos with the pics.

Am I too PC? Does the fact that it’s a character like Vinny make a difference? Do those Hillary Duff public service announcements mean nothing? What say you?    -Alex

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Tan Lines

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I got my first dose of serious springtime sunshine this weekend, and I soaked it up like a sponge. Having recently moved from a place where April showers are followed by more May showers, it’s quite a joy to see what spring can really do to people who’ve been literally snowed under for 4 or 5 months.

Aaron Tanner and Rik Jammer show their tans in Nasty Sex Fights

Of course, with sunshine and warmth comes hot boys who simply need to expose as much of their beautiful skin as possible. Temperatures on the rise in the atmosphere equate to my internal temperature stoked hot and heavy with a sudden wealth of eye candy everywhere I turn.

Dan Melino’s massive bod and luscious tan lines in Frisco Fights 2

Personally I avoid too much sun. After a few too many bad burns in my youth, my doctor advises me that pasty-white is the perfect shade of hot-bodiedness for me. That doesn’t, however, prevent me from happily spectating that rite of spring that is the public display of skin with the implicit, if not explicit, purpose of marketing oneself for warm-weathered sexual activity.

Eduardo rocked the erotic tan line hardest in All American Oiled Trio Bash

I’ve always had a special kink for tan lines in homoerotic wrestling as well. There’s something extra intimate about the pale pattern of a skimpy bikini to mark where a hardbodied hunk sunbathed in his speedo before getting his gear peeled off in the ring. The implication of modesty (he didn’t tan au natural) coupled with seeing a wrestler stripped naked in combat gives me value added arousal for the sexy reveal.

Jimmy Dean’s thong tan-lines in 

Is it me, or are their fewer tan lines in homoerotic wrestling? Perhaps it’s the public health campaign to keep us from tempting the cancer fates by staying in the shade (as my doc has done). Then again, there are the beautifully tanned hardbodies for which there’s no tan line because they slip into the privacy of the tanning booth with nothing to leave a line.

Kyle Bradford’s newsmaker-tanned ass in Make Me Submit

A hot, lickable tan line still gets my blood boiling a little faster, though, with a sweet scent of innocence defiled coupled with a strong whiff of nostalgia. So if you’re going to worship the sun with your pumped muscles bare and beautiful, I just hope that you apply the SPF liberally to blunt the worst of the effects, and wear your speedo, because the pale imprint of your gear left over once your opponent has ripped and stripped you naked is incredibly sexy!

J.T. Sloan’s picture perfect tan line in Fantasy Fight 10 vs. Dave Russell

Heat

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Reigning favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy: 5’10”, 145 lbs Skrapper

My pornboy favorite rankings have been stagnant for a while.  When Naked Kombat went down, the need for a separate pornboy category from the non-pornboy homoerotic wrestling favorites seemed less important to me.  Now that NK is back and I’m back paying attention to them, I’m guessing there will be new pornboys capturing my fancy and shaking up the ranks.  Mr. Intense, aka BG East’s Skrapper, has held the title of my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy forever, though I’m hoping the likes of someone like babyface sadist Vance Crawford might give Skrapper a run for his title.  The heat that dude-meister Skrapper generates, however, is incredible, and even when no on (on camera) is losing a load or two by the end of a match, Skrapper’s mastery of a homoerotic wrestling opponent is nothing short of scorching.

Scorching Jake Jenkins: 5’7″, 155 lbs.

Did someone say scorching?  Holy Mary Mother of God, have you seen that “little fucking monkey” (lovingly dubbed so by Kid Karisma) Jake Jenkins in mouthwateringly low rise Calvin Klein briefs!?  His mat match in Sunshine Shooters 6 against Skrapper presents Jake as insanely sexy as we’ve ever seen him, somehow stoking my fires a tad more for eventually wrestling in nothing but his tighty-whities soaked through with buckets and buckets of sweat.

A little “training”
Jake has a notoriously steady hand on the rudder when he wrestles.  He looks like a chess master through most of his matches, as much as a seriously dangerous powerhouse muscleman who, as Skrapper learns, can wrestle, punch, and kick with equally devastating results.  Skrapper spends the first half of this match chipping away at the cool as ice exterior on lovely Jake.  Having lured him to the mats for some “training,” he instantly and literally knocks Jake on his heels with the surprise that he wants to box.  It takes approximately a blink of an eye for Jake to recalibrate and start unloading a semi full of bell ringing strikes with fists, feet, knees and elbows.
Skrapper may not have gotten the memo that Jake is also an MMA fighter!
Bit by bit, Skrapper keeps chipping away, not giving Jake a moment to breathe, not a second to recover when he gets the wind knocked out of him.  Slowly it dawns on Jake that this isn’t about “training” at all.  As Skrapper starts both dominating and humiliating the “little fucking monkey,” Jake starts to lose his patience.  “What’s your problem, dude!” he snaps angrily when Skrapper stays on the offense well past the point of “practicing” a hold.  Between Skrapper and Jake, I suspect there may be more utterances of the word “dude” in this match than any other in the history of homoerotic wrestling.  I could find that grating, but I don’t.  Not for a second.  Because like Jake, I just don’t have time to catch a breath or be bothered by anything.  Skrapper sucker punches and pounds and squeezes his way inside Jake’s guard and underneath Jake’s flawless skin, and right around the time sweat is pouring off of both of these boys’ bodies in streams, Jake is seriously pissed off and I’m completely turned on.
I’d pay good money to trade places with Skrapper at this very moment!
The baggy shorts come off pretty quickly, thank the homoerotic wrestling gods.  More than 5 minutes with Jake Jenkins in anything more than very low-rise briefs is a crime against all that’s right and good in this world, as far as I’m concerned.  And fuck, Skrapper!  Damn!  He’s no muscleboy, mind you, but he’s seriously fit, toned, and does a mighty fine job of making his own pair of athletic-fit Calvins stretch at all the right seams.  Their two well-lubricated bodies sliding and squeezing all over each other is somewhere between a religious experience and insanely masterful art.  Skrapper’s face and hands go places I’d give a kidney to go, and the more moisture their bodies generate, the more I swoon at the sound of hard, muscled bodies slapping wetly into each other… and the mat… and the walls.
I don’t know what you call this, but I call it sexy as hell!

Skrapper’s got a tiger by the tail when he’s finally succeeded in provoking Jake, but damn it all if the skrappy one doesn’t hold onto that hot, hot piece of tail with precisely the fearlessness and tenacity that propelled me to lustfully anoint him my top of the pack pornboy wrestler.  I don’t know what the technical term is for this combo acrobatic/yoga/little-fucking-monkey move that Skrapper manages on the muscleboy, but he plants Jake’s handsome face into the mat, folds his legs at the knees, and pries the rest of Jake’s shiny body upward, slowly cranking Jake’s back arching backward.  Damn, that needs to be mounted and framed and hanging on my wall!

Skrapper messes with the bull…

I never, ever count Skrapper out until he’s been unconscious for at least a minute, and Jake figures that lesson out for himself eventually.  The skrappy one’s tenacity and endless reservoir of momentum and sheer nerve sincerely appear to stun his gorgeous opponent.  But tenacity and nerve, in the end, aren’t nearly as stunning as Jake Jenkins provoked, unleashed, and just plain fucking fed up!  The can of whoop ass he opens up as Skrapper keeps peeling himself off the mat and charging headlong into the buzzsaw is breathtaking.  Just ask Skrapper right about the time that sweat-soaked Jake Jenkins plants his luscious ass down on Skrapper’s sternum, his hefty package lodged sweetly in Skrapper’s cleavage, and Jake breathes deep and pumps out a double bicep in victory.

Is he finally down for good!? 
Chalk up another victory for that little fucking monkey!

By the end of this match Jake, Skrapper, AND I need a shower, and I can think of one easily solution to that problem!

Lusts of My Life [Guest Blogger: Alex]

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So I know I wrote that my lusts are usually low profile, but that’s not the case for this one. Mike Columbo. I mean, he is one of BGE’s big stars and has been in tons of videos. However, the reason I like him may be unique. Tarzan. Yes, Tarzan is why he was one of the first guys I gravitated to.
Now, I admit that if I were casting a Tarzan, Mike Columbo wouldn’t be my first choice. So how does my brain relate the two? Here’s my explanation:
My favorite Tarzan is Gordon Scott. Mike Columbo taps directly into my lust for him. Big chest. Narrow waist. Big muscles. Haircut. Face. Scott isn’t a classic, long-haired Tarzan, but when I saw his movies on TV, I was quite young and wowed. In fact, he might be the first ever lust of my life. So Mike Columbo drafted off Scott. The fact that his matches consistently delivered made him an immediate must-buy for many, many years.

So do you see the resemblance or am I crazy? Post your thoughts in the comments!