Author: wrestlebard

I'm a gay man with an active imagination.

The Lusts of My Life [Guest Blogger: Alex]

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I’ve been struggling to get my work done, post some new homoerotic wrestling fiction, and keep neverland updated regularly with tasty treats for you. Prolific and extremely talented writer Alex asked if there was anything he could do to take something off my plate. Moments later, I’d wrangled him and his fantastically vivid mind for erotic wrestling to commit to making some guest contributions around here to keep things fresh while I’m pounding out some text in my homoerotic wrestling fiction groups. As Sidelineland readers know, Alex rocks. He’s got an incredibly hot literary eye for wrestling, and he’s one of the most talented writers I’ve read in the genre. We’re lucky to have him writing stories to share with us, and I’m incredibly pleased to have him step in as a very honored guest blogger here at neverland today (and hopefully in the future, as well!).  ~Bard

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When Bard asked me if I wanted to write something for his blog, I went through three stages of hesitation. I started by thinking about the fact that blogs are personal, like an open journal. Neverland is home to his thoughts, not mine. Do my thoughts even belong here? Then I wondered if anyone would care what I had to say about anything. Why would they? Who the hell am I? And last, I worried I’d have nothing to say. I write wrestling stories, but those aren’t the same. My favorite bloggers seem rather profound, analyzing wrestling at a deep level. I tend to look at the surface from an instinctual POV. Then it sort of hit me … what’s wrong with instinct and being shallow?

So, here we are. While many people are searching for the love(s) of their life, I’m going to write about the lusts of my life. I’m talking about the guys you see that get into your system and you can’t shake them. Not the latest flavor of the month, but guys who years later, you’re still thinking about. It’s not like you want to marry the guy, it’s more like a craving. You can’t explain it, people might mock you for it, but there’s just something about him.

For me, these are often guys that I feel like only I see the potential in. Of course with the interwebs, I know it’s more than just me, but they’re still not the über-popular super-studs. They have often a fleeting presence in my life that I think adds to their appeal, as they stay the same forever. You don’t have time to notice the flaws, just the magic of first sight.

One of my big lusts in life is Bart Gunn. Yes, Bart Gunn.

Three-time WWF champion. Cowboy, tall, built and hot, mullet and all. Hey, I did say I couldn’t always explain it. I like guys in classic trunks, but Bart wore tight jeans and cowboy boots to the ring and I loved it. In spite of his physical attributes, Bart never really caught on, but I loved him.

Thanks to YouTube, there are actually quite a few matches with him in them. Bart’s solo match with Ted Dibiase was the first match I ever saw of him. As a Smoking Gunn, he was usually the tag partner who took the abuse. After he went on his own, Bart was that jobber who came close to winning. His solo match with Mankind is a stand out for me.

20 years after his debut and Bart is still my guy.

Is this just me? Do you have a lust of your life? Share your opinion in the comments!

+Alex

Promises, Promises

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The headline read, “Porn star rivals in pro wrestling grudge match until one of them is stripped and left crushed in the ring.” Okay, so the “headline” of Rock Hard Wrestling’s newest match between Josh Steel and Luke Harrison didn’t actually read that way. Pretty much all those words are in the online match description, however, so it should come as little surprise to anyone that I was instantly sucked in. RHW has excelled at extremely high production quality professional wrestling between hardbodied young hotties, which is admittedly an excellent foundation for a homoerotic wrestling audience. However, they’ve steered clear of too much overt acknowledgement of the homoerotic aspect of their appeal. They have definitely always described their wrestlers in lustful terms, and the matches hit some major marks for implicit erotic domination and submission themes. But to see them play up a “porn star rivals” storyline and title the production “Stripped” seems like a promising and provocative turn that most certainly grabbed my attention and wallet. I’m not expecting Naked Kombat, though I’d go ape shit for RHW to indulge in rip-n-strip wrestling between hard-in-all-the-right-places wrestlers with a loser-gets-humiliated-and-fucked final round of action. Honestly, though, I’m not expecting the RHW we’ve grown to know over the past few years to veer quite that explicit. But naming the boys as rival porn stars and promising one of them will get stripped is definitely a huge step in the right direction, I’m thinking.

This is Luke Harrison’s debut with RHW, and as far as I know, his debut in wrestling for pay (please someone, correct me if I’m wrong). He’s extremely lean, and yes, I’ll even say it, he’s downright skinny, particularly once seen side by side with the bulging pecs of muscleboy Josh Steel. Luke is, however, not without a strong appeal, not in small part from the fact that he’s a dead ringer for Topher Grace’s little brother (not that I know whether Topher has a little brother… but if he did, I’d bet money he looks just like young Luke). Put Topher Grace in a singlet, straps down around his waist, and toss his fine ass into a professional wrestling ring, and I’m feasting for days. Luke strokes some of the same notes that Topher does for me, and he tweaks a certain skinny-kid retribution fantasy in me (in which a handsome adolescent boy gets bullied in school and then opens up a can of whoop ass on his bully’s ass once they’re of the age of majority), so I’m quite pleased with the graceful, lean young stud. Supporting my skinny-nerd-retribution fantasy is the high-pitched, nasally Southern twang Luke communicates with. This porn star was called a sissy back in the day, I’d bet money. Yeah, I’d love to see Luke crush a big, bad bully’s balls and slap his porn star cock in the stunned stud’s face!

Josh Steel on the other hand is a freak of nature! Damn, damn, damn the boy’s got insane proportions. The long, stunningly lean torso tapered into a wasp-thin waist, sitting so, so pretty atop a meaty, muscle-bubble butt and powerful legs is along the realm of fantasy-man wrestling. But those g-g-g-gorgeous pecs of his are clearly ripped straight off of a comic book superhero! The incredibly hot, bold, beautiful indigo tat on his right upper arm is so entirely up my alley, and the fact that he’s wearing lickably snug trunks that match his tat make me deeply intrigued with the picture perfect aesthetics he presents. In still frame, I fucking love this kid! Then he opens his mouth, wipes the shaggy mop of bangs off his brow, and slaps down some Southern-twangy narcissistic high-school-bully-turned-internet-wrestling-bully baritone trash talk, and I fucking HATE this kid! I mean, he’s a fantastic package, made that much more fantastic by the fact that he instantly raises within me hardcore contempt. Josh is instantly a most excellent pro wrestling character, grabbing my cock at the same time he grabs my infatuation with a compelling story. And what’s the compelling story he ignites with me the instant he curls his lip and rolls his eyes at little Luke? Good God, I want Josh’s glorious ass beat, spanked, and let’s put that Naked Kombat sex round in the mix to show him ridden like a donkey and fucked 9 ways to Sunday!

Check the RHW web description of this match for more of the steamy banter that these two hormone buckets dish out, because I’m happy to see their match descriptions focusing extensively on the dialogue you know I love so much. There’s plenty of withering assessments of each other’s wrestling and bodies. “You call this a bow and arrow?” Josh snarls at one point as Luke does an admirable job of displaying the cocky muscleboy in precisely that hold. “Bitch and arrow!” Josh snarls in contempt of the minimal damage Luke inflicts. And true enough, despite Luke owning the momentum through the majority of the first fall, he’s clearly not doing much damage. Putting on a clinic of pro wrestling holds, Luke then suddenly finds the powerpacked musclebody he’s been pounding on turning to offense on a dime (okay, a little too quickly for the sake of suspending disbelief, which is a frequent criticism of RHW I have). “You think you’re a wrestler!?” Josh laughs in precisely the rumbling tone of voice of a high school bully. “That’s so fucking funny!” And just like the high school bully, Josh delights in locking on a shoulder-wrenching hammerlock and tossing his skinny opponent around, force-feeding Luke the mat (to be fair, Luke did this first on his mop-top opponent, setting up the moment of sweet revenge). But it’s Luke’s “skinny” legs that Josh targets with most of his fury, pounding, stomping, twisting, grinding them. He’s set up his “porn star rival” quite adeptly by the time he delicately laces his sculpted, muscular legs around Luke’s in a figure-4 leglock, so it’s no wonder that the skinny kid taps out quickly, clearly in a panic. Fuck. That fucking muscle stud bully won the first fall. I HATE that kid (in a good way)!

Watching Josh’s smooth bulges turn red with effort and grow slick with sweat is undeniably arousing. I can forget for a while how much I have an instant lustful desire to watch his beautiful body get fucked up, because watching that body flex and stretch as he grunts and groans in the driver’s seat is just plain hot. “Like that!?” he laughs, grinding Luke’s skull between his sculpted arm and ribcage in a humiliating headlock. “Gonna walk with me like my dog!? Gonna heel?!” When he wraps his legs around Topher’s little brother’s midsection and starts pounding the crap out of the kid’s lean chest, I have to admit that I’m suddenly forgetting about my bully-revenge fantasy for a moment and wondering how I can sign up for that ride snuggled up so nice and tight against Josh’s crotch. “You can’t move that!” Josh crows as Luke tries to pry his legs off of him. “You can’t move steel!” So sure, I had an instant lustful fantasy to see narcissist muscleboy Josh get a dose of humbling domination from Luke, but despite myself, I’m getting totally turned on watching him own his rival, particularly as his mop-top grows heavier with sweat. “Come on, cry for me. Scream!” he says, and then laughs when he makes the skinny kid do just that.

But then when Luke rallies to scoop the flat-footed muscle boy up and parade him around the ring helplessly again, my bully-revenge fantasy kicks into overdrive once more. Luke’s a little raw, not able to finish executing a Boston crab attempt, looking a little at a loss for offense. I feel for the kid. A big, muscled beauty momentarily at your mercy… where to start!? Tenderizing all that beef with repeated stomps is a good place. Grinding Josh’s face into the mat with fistfuls of his shaggy, dishwater blond hair is an excellent development as well. “Did you ever wrestle?” high-pitched Southern skinny boy Luke asks, owning his bulging opponent. “Yeah,” smart ass Josh replies, “I wrestled your mom last night!” Note to self: don’t insult Luke Harrison’s mom. The kid goes ape shit all over Josh’s body until pretty much every one of his aesthetically perfected muscles is quivering and helpless. Then when he pounds the sculpted muscleboy’s lower back down across his knee in an OTK backbreaker, with Josh’s blue bulge quivering, his soaked mop top shaking, his carved pecs now bright red from the fists pounding into them, my bully-slayer gets the equalizer submission and drops the mountain of meat to the mat in disgust. “Are you okay?” Luke feigns concern. “Is you’re back okay?” he asks, a half a second before stomping his boot into the muscleboy’s lower back again. Hell. Yes.

The final fall (or “round” in RHW terms) has a bit of sweet drama about it. “I must’ve underestimated you,” Josh grudgingly admits as they start the final and decisive fall. When he gets the upperhand and unleashes a flurry of boot strikes on an already down Luke, the skinny kid sneers up at him having already achieved a minor victory. “Somebody’s mad!” he chuckles, celebrating on behalf of all of us who’ve been bullied by bigger, meaner, stronger, supremely condescending bad asses who would hate to admit that their prey managed to get under their skin. When he’s worked up a head of steam, Josh’s mouthwatering pecs heave and swell hypnotically. His body, particularly his back, shines with sweat. He watches Luke grovel, struggling to peel his face off the mat where he’s been slammed brutally. “I like it when you wheeze when you hit the mat!” Josh laughs like the fantastically gorgeous sadistic bastard he is. The final fall teeters back and forth as the young ‘uns do their best to sell us on classic pro wrestling suspense. My muscle-bully-retribution fantasy evaporates when Luke finally can’t peel himself back up off the mat. He’s crushed, wasted. He’s rung some satisfying concessions out of steel-cored Josh, but between Josh’s deeper reservoir of ring experience and his significant advantage in size and strength, Luke cannot pull it off. Far from some behind the dumpsters in the back of the high school squash, though, he’s done my bully-bashing fantasy proud. He’s not just earned respect, he’s rung it with both hands out of the tantalizingly tasty fantasy body of his rival. Josh “wins,” but the skinny, Southern sissy boy forced a different story out of him than the old throw-the-helpless-skinny-nerd-in-the-dumpster nightmare.

I have to quibble about a few things, as is my self-appointed prerogative as consumer and critic. First of all, and most obviously, if you’re planning on purchasing this in order to see either “porn star” wrestler stripped naked, stop right there. The stripping that happens is when exhausted Luke gets his singlet (and according to Josh, his “dignity”) stripped off of his legs, leaving Luke sprawled out in the middle of the ring IN HIS CALVIN KLEIN BRIEFS. Now, the act of stripping is, itself, hot, even when not down to bare skin, but I would caution anyone who buys what I think is arguably an oversell that by the end of this match you’ll see a porn star naked in the ring. Doesn’t happen, and I feel just a little toyed with, I have to say.

My second knock against this match is the wrestling itself. The trade off for an RHW match between painfully young pretty boys can often be some woodenness, telegraphed action, weak sell, and lack of wrestling creativity. In this case, in particular I find fault with the pacing (both boys sell suffering nicely, but then instantly stand up straight when it’s their “turn” on offense and suddenly are fresh as daisies), and with several moments of Luke’s newbie paralysis. Played a little differently, his blown Boston crab and anxious struggle to figure out what to do next when he’s got Josh on his heels could be a sweet little point in the drama. But it comes across here as mostly a rook who forgets his lines. My most vehement criticism is the fact that despite schoolboy pinning his comic book character opponent and owning him for considerable riding time, not once does he sink his claws into those bouncing baby pecs of Josh. Not once does he trap the sculpted stud in the ropes and wail on all those muscles. Finally, while I love the tempting tidbit that these guys could be porn star rivals, other than an initial “don’t I know you” banter when Josh first arrives at ringside, there’s nothing in the drama itself to play up the erotic content that these two do porn. Josh pulls a “I had your momma” insult, but if RHW is interested in talking directly to their homoerotic wrestling fans, let’s see the porn stars acknowledge “You didn’t squirm this much when my monster cock was up that bubble butt last month!”

Just increasing the erotic content of the drama would make me feel a little less used as a result of my knee jerk reaction to seeing the phrase “porn star rivals” in the match description. Of course, if RHW ever decides to tape an actual strip stakes match, if they ever present us with a naked pony ride around the RHW ring and one porn star force fed the jack hammer of the stud who bested him, then I’m buying a lifetime subscription!

Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month

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Walks in the park were laying on on too thick, huh? True enough, yesterday’s post swearing off the core direction of this blog for topics unrelated to homoerotic wrestling was, indeed, an April Fool prank. For the record, I’m not in therapy and have found 3 out of 4 therapists in the past to be undertrained, unqualified, and generally unhelpful, so the idea of taking a therapist’s advice and turning my back on what gets my blood pumping is never going to happen. And while it’s true that I do actually get a kick out of long walks and flowers from my lover, they do not make me hard. What does turn me on, of course, is some hot, sweaty, full contact, no shame, muscle on muscle wrestling, so let’s put the foolishness behind us and get down to business, namely, naming the new homoerotic wrestler of the month around these parts.

Rock Hard Wrestling puts up a couple of sugary sweet treats: beautifully tattooed muscle twink Josh Steel and newcomer reported pornboy Luke Harrison pounding on each other until one of them is “Stripped.” RHW also puts up nominees fratboy Alex Waters and baby bodybuilder Brodie Fisher for Rookie Rising. Thunder’s Arena has been busy with several new releases debuting new wrestlers, of which I’m giving nominations to HUGE bodybuilder and deadringer for a comic book supervillain, Vinny “Too Good” who has suddenly appeared in 3 releases, but I’m particularly pleased with his twink punishment on lovely, lithe Mogly in Mat Rats 37. Though not to overlook the biggest news story in homoerotic wrestling over the past couple of weeks, Vinny most recently showed up on the Thunder’s mats against a Thunder’s debut of fitness model goldenboy Frey, who everyone but EVERYONE already knows exceedingly well as none other than Rock Hard Wrestling’s and BG East’s Austin Cooper. Frey/Coop also gets my loving for getting Python’s insanely peaked python wrapped around his throat in Rough and Ready 31. Glory be, Can-Am has released something new with perennial workhorse Jobe Zander grabbing a nomination and the nuts of Joey Boots who has got a look that instantly sparks my imagination. Can-Am has also released a superhero porn wrestling piece in their Hard Heroes genre giving us another gander at Joey Boots as well as fellow nominee and a Naked Kombat alum who was always a favorite of mine, long, strong, insanely flexible Phillip Aubrey. And just under the wire, BG East released catalog 98 (that’s 2 catalog’s away from a century!). I nearly didn’t have time to give the catalog 98 releases a serious look, making me nearly postpone their consideration for next month. But some exhausting dehydration sessions over the past couple of days have given me the opportunity to consider them in their time. As a result, I’m putting in nominations for muscleman Chace LaChance and blindingly pretty powerhouse Brad Barnes for Pec Bash 2; former HWOTM leading man Christian Taylor and lusty stud Tino Valencia for Sunshine Shooters 6; two former HWOTM, sweaty muscle stud Jake Jenkins and sexy never-say-die Skrapper for their appearance also on Sunshine Shooters 6; a truly breathtaking and compelling debut by Ronny “the instant classic” Pearl and the human buzz saw, Cybertron 2.0 in Ringwars 21; perennial goldenboy Austin Cooper’s deeply satisfying heel turn in Demolition 16; former HWOTM forearms-of-steel Jonny Firestorm cubed for the fantastic concept piece of The 3 Stages of Jonny; and finally, sultry Lorenzo Lowe and magical Gabriel Ross for pounding it all out in Wrestle Shack 16.

I love the mix of former HWOTM, other frequent nominees, and brand new additions to the ranks this month. This was a fantastically deep field this time around, and I loved exploring every inch of it. I much prefer a month like this, where I waver back and forth between several nominees, torn and tormented by the task of selecting just one to hail for their hot new appearance on the scene. So much to say about so many of these profoundly delightful wrestling performances, but if you batter me defenseless and tie me in the ropes (please!) to demand I make a choice, I’ve got one juice-draining hunk in mind, and I’m not looking back. The new reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month is…

… Austin Cooper.

Appearing in 2 matches at Thunder’s Arena (as Frey), and 2 matches in his self-subtitled Demolition 16 BG East release, if this were a random draw, he’d have the best odds of winning the title anyway. However, it’s far from blind chance that I specifically call out his main course feast for the senses in Demolition 16, telling one of my very favorite wrestling stories in any genre, the goldenboy heel turn. God, I love a heel turn. The journey from Coop’s catalog 96 appearance in American flag briefs climbing into the ring as one half of the gorgeously cocky muscle-beautiful pretty boy team alongside of former HWOTM Jake Jenkins to his showing up in Demolition 16 in a black lace corset, villainous facial hair, and a penchant for trampling a totally outmatched opponent brings a tear of absolute erotic joy to my eye!

Coop, drenched in sweat, hard as granite, and pounding the living shit out of stellar jobber extraordinaire, Rio Garza, is absolutely a thing of beauty. There are Rio fans already hating on me for not choosing him again this month, but this isn’t about their favorite wrestler-of-the-month, it’s about mine, and as blindingly beautiful as is Rio’s admittedly growing capacity to job, I cannot take my eyes off of Coop’s soaked, heaving chest. Out-prettying Rio Garza is a mind blowing feat, but damn it all but if ripped Coop does just that for me. But interestingly for me, it’s his less ripped, less pristine look in the second match of Demolition 16, against beautiful lamb-to-the-slaughter, masked Mister E, that sets off the biggest fireworks in my head and crotch.

When Coop first hit the scene arm in arm with Jake Jenkins, showing up simultaneously at Rock Hard Wrestling and then making the leap to BG East as a matched pair of beauties, I went on record early that ridiculously beautiful Coop took a back seat for my affections behind Jake. From the start, if you put the two of them side by side and slathered in baby oil (not because that’s relevant, but just because I’d like to seem them in baby oil), my hands would, of their own accord, stretch involuntarily toward Jake, without a doubt. It’s no wonder Jake was a HWOTM long before now, because he always plays my lusts like a concert pianist. But even with Jake in the mix this month in a fantastically hot and bothered mat match against Skrapper, Coop doesn’t just turn heel, he turns me into a believer.

Like I said, goldenboy fitness model turned sadistic ring heel is pretty much guaranteed to rock my world as far as wrestling stories go, and you know I’m always a sucker for a well-told story with ample, bouncing, pendulous character development. In less generous moments in the past, I would have probably ungraciously thrown words like “vanilla” and “pedestrian” around in musing on the erotic spells that Austin Cooper can weave over me. That is, most definitely, no longer the case, and for climbing into the ring in a lace up corset and convincing me beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’s got a ravenous blood lust for chugging down the wailing suffering of a crushed opponent, I’m entirely on board. Among a very competitive and pleasing crowd, Austin Cooper rises to the top as both a gloriously delightful heel and my reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month!

A New Direction

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Several regular readers have noticed that I’ve been conspicuously less frequent in my postings over the past several weeks. While the ebb and flow of life has often generated this pattern in the past, I need to announce some major changes here at neverland based on a good deal of introspection, soul-searching, and, frankly, intensive psychotherapy.

First, I’m not discontinuing neverland, in case that’s what anyone is thinking. I’ll continue to post here about the infinite trivialities running through my head as has been, in general, my style for the past nearly 4 years.

However, I’ve been led through extensive meditation and life-review that my infatuation with homoerotic wrestling has become too limited and limiting. I’ve somehow made a ridiculous amount of hay for nearly 4 years out of a singular fixation on the eroticism of wrestling. What about the romantic allure of gentle tenderness and kindness? What about the erotic delights of a spiritual connection with another human being? My tunnel-visioned focus on grunting, sweating, aggressive, trash-talking, body pounding, joint wrenching, humiliating domination through the performance art of professional wrestling for gay eyes is surely not all that there is to a satisfying, robust, well-rounded libido.

Therefore, based on my introspection and some advice from my therapist, starting today, I’m going to begin blogging about a more thoughtful and comprehensive view of what can turn me on, including things like flowers, walks in the park, cuddling by the fire, and sensual, loving erotic massage. While wrestling topics may pop up now and then, I will begin exploring a more diverse and expansive understanding of the erotic. I hope that you will respect this course correction and new focus, and chime in with your own thoughts on what, other than wrestling, turns you on.

Sincerely,
Bard

Picking Up the Remote

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Within the context of the news that one of my favorite newsboys, Chris Cuomo, has been successfully wooed away from ABC by CNN to headline his own morning news program, ABC quietly brought on board a new correspondent a couple of months ago.
Luscious Latino stud Gio Benitez looks hungry for success.
Gio Benitez joins the Good Morning America crew after his recent migration north from Miami.  My instant reaction to young Gio was, “hola!”  The Latino stud is handsome as hell.  He’s got a mouthful of teeth, sporting a smile bigger than most (not hating here, mind you… not at all).  Gio has a strong wiff of fratboy hottiness about him, mixed in with an unmistakable “aw shucks” quality that shines through the impeccably tailored suit he wears to increase his network news cred, unmistakably revealing he’s just fucking thrilled to have landed this shot at the big leagues.  I liked him instantly.  I thought immediately that he well could earn an appearance in a homoerotic wrestling fantasy, perhaps teaming up with fellow GMA correspondent and frequent object of my lust, Matt Gutman.  It’s hard to judge, when I only get to see a stud from the waist up as Gio typically reports sitting at the GMA desk or, when in the field in a head-and-shoulders framed shot, but sure, I’d almost definitely like to see someone like Gutman jump this rookie from behind and rip off the suit and tie to reveal what the fresh meat carries underneath.

There’s no mistaking it: Gio’s bulging!
Then a couple of weeks ago, something caught my eye when I was lustfully fantasizing in the middle of one of Gio’s morning reports.  Damn, that suit is tailored all to hell, and fuck me if those aren’t some serious pythons coiled up inside those sleeves!  Of course, you know me.  I can let my imagination run a little wild at times (aka, always).  I can picture a stone-carved hunk of mouthwatering meat with just a single button undone to reveal the barest glimpse of pec cleavage.  But there was something about the way Gio sat at the GMA desk, something about those obviously packed shirt sleeves and an unmistakable bulge at the shoulders.  Is this yet another example of my imagination running away with me, or is Gio Benitez an undercover muscleman!?  A little internet digging and bingo!
This shot alone makes me ready to move to Miami!
Holy shit.  I mean, holy… fucking… shit.  This kid is a side of beef!  I get absolutely nothing in my treasure hunt for a shirtless shot ($10 to anyone who’s got nip sightings on lovely Gio).  But some sleeveless t-shirt shots show seriously nice, thick biceps and big, round shoulders of a pump-junkie gym bunny!
Gio’s prominent nips are begging to debut!
Already there’s online speculation about Gio’s sexual orientation, because yeah, that’s what we do.  Personally, I’m holding out hope that Matt Gutman’s recent assignments reporting from Miami led to a torrid love affair with a certain Cuban powerbottom and subsequently the inside track on a major league job promotion.  True story or not, I’m helpless to stop the barrage of images stroking my imagination featuring Gio’s powerfully sculpted pecs bouncing as he climbs through the ropes alongside his new newsboy tag team partner, Mattie too-hot-to-handle Gutman.  Talk about a power couple!  The old guard on the newsboy beat better get their tired asses to the gym, because there are a couple of new kids on the newsboy block that I absolutely cannot take my eyes off of!
That physique is made to deliver a newsboy beatdown!
Speaking of which, this countermove by ABC to position an insanely sexy rookie newsboy with biceps way thicker than George Stephanopoulos’ neck into my morning routine moments before Chris Cuomo goes live on CNN with his own morning show is undeniable genius.  I’m almost paralyzed by the win-win choice of GMA vs. yet-to-be-named Cuomo morning vehicle.  A no-holds-barred pro wrestling match between Gio and Chris would certainly settle things for me (and don’t think that isn’t playing itself out in my imagination soon!).  However, short of that ideal scenario, let me just clarify for the powers that be that the owner of my loyalties will almost certainly be the network that manages to contrive the more creative ways to maneuver their meat in front of the camera wearing as little as possible.  
Beat it goofy!  That upper body is mine to fondle!
I haven’t been this turned on over my morning cup of tea in far too long. Summer’s coming soon.  I think it’s about time for a GMA correspondent swim suit fashion show!  Sincerely, welcome to my homoerotic wrestling fantasies, Gio Benitez!
Wanna wrestle, Gio?  Call me!

And word to the wise, Mr. Cuomo: this rook looks like he could very well have pecs to rival even your mouthwatering mounds of muscle.  Knock out another set at the bench press and start practicing your pec claws, because this beautiful specimen could very well be more than you can handle!
Call up that personal trainer again, Chris, and look over your shoulder, ’cause Gio’s making his move!

Making Jake

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The next catalog apparently has a new Jake Jenkins match previewed in BG East Arena this week, in which the former homoerotic wrestler of the month squares off on the mats with always underestimated and deceptively dangerous Skrapper.  It’s been a while since I posted a dose of Making Jake, so let’s consider more of the ABC’s that make Jake Jenkins such a compelling homoerotic wrestler.
K is for “kneel at my feet, bitch!”

..kneel.  Pry your eyes away from the aesthetic perfection of Kid Karisma’s award-winning ass and appreciate the stunningly sexy dominance he has over Jake in their sexy-as-hell ring match for Hunkbash 12.  I could come up with an A-Z catalog just documenting the insanely sexy wonders (yes, that’s 3 uses of the word “sexy” in 2 sentences!) that my top contender for reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler (Kid K) does to his highly acrobatic “monkey boy” opponent, Jake.  Potentially the sweetest of all is when Kid K drags this lovely homage to Kevin Von Erich off the mat by a fistful of hair, his own stunning muscles pumped and primed, staring down at the sweaty, battered, beaten, slack jawed beauty before him as humiliatingly makes Jake kneel.

L is for leaping from the turnbuckle!

… leap. Speaking of acrobatics and being a monkey boy, there’s nothing more provocative about Jake than watching him in his natural habitat, swinging from the ropes and climbing the corners of a pro wrestling ring.  The 5’7″, this top babyface of 2012 could make hay for days capitalizing on a low center of gravity and his hot, thick musculature.  Fuck that.  Jake loves to fly, like when Rock Hard Wrestling’s stud puppy, Cliff Johnson’s long lovely bod is flat on it’s back, the overhead lights spinning in his eyes, and his tag team partner a couple of miles away, helpless to do anything but watch his buddy about to get pummeled from projectile Jake.  Cliff’s tantalizing helplessness laid out like a turkey dinner delightfully makes Jake leap!

M is for pushing the mild-mannered stud too far and making him mad!

… mad.  I enjoy Jake’s range.  For example, in his tag team match alongside partner Austin Cooper, staring across the ring at Lon Dumont and Nicholas Rush, he chuckles at the start of Tag Team Torture 15.  The boys in stars and stripes think that they’ve got absolutely nothing to worry about.  They’re gorgeous, powerful, and probably Coop’s biceps are about twice as thick and strong as newbie Nick’s quads.  And they’ve partnered in the ring possibly the most of any current (or former?) homoerotic wrestling tag team, establishing a rapport and sweet empathy for one another’s trials in the action.  But here, catch the look of fury on Jake’s face as Coop offers a hand to peel him off the mat after getting used and abused by my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler, Lon Dumont.  The vulnerability of all that high octane muscle having to get a hand off the floor, combined with that rising boil of rage in his eyes is such sweet character development, as Lon Dumont makes Jake mad.

N is for watching your partner humiliated as you start to get nervous.

… nervous.  That finely honed empathy Jake’s developed with frequent tag team partner Austin Cooper is a double-edged tool, of course.  On the one hand, Jake and Coop can probably finish each other’s sentences like an old married couple by now, having grown to know exactly what to expect from one another in the heat of battle.  Knowing your partner’s tolerances and limits, having confidence in your partner’s strengths and loyalty… these are fine weapons to bring to bear as a dangerously devastating tag team.  Then again, all that empathy can serve just to share the suffering when one of you is getting crushed and humiliated and you’re stuck obeying the rules from your corner.  When expert sadist and prettyboy basher Ethan Andrews gets his mitts all over Coop’s soaked, bulging body, things start to take a turn for the worse for team goldenboys.  Locking Coop up tight in a camel clutch and prying his helpless head backward to show the camera the handsome stud’s tortured humility leaves Jake pleading with his partner to rally, stretching his hand hopelessly inside the ring so far out of reach, paining the fresh man in the corner to watch his buddy getting messed up and taunted, and with Coop fading fast and looking like he’s about to literally cry uncle, making Jake nervous.

O is for finally putting Mr. Mountain Dew out cold and leaving a little drool dribbling from the corner of his mouth, oblivious.

… oblivious.  Jake is not at all unlike a can of Mountain Dew vigorously shaken and then popped open: a concentrated burst of energy exploding all over the ring with a sugary sweet aftertaste.  Kid K called him a monkey boy because Jake doesn’t stop moving, climbing, leaping, sprinting.  He’s a fantastic combination of grace and power, and even when he gives away a fall, you get the sense the rubber ball is just about to bounce right back up.  So it’s probably no wonder that so many of his opponents can only claim an enduring victory over him after they’ve rendered the fitness model unconscious.  All that kinetic energy, all that motion and coordination and acrobatics and emoting go slack, and the allure of a muscled athlete dozing away, completely at the mercy of another man, is the homoerotic wrestling money shot for me.  What a thrilling climax it is to watch 2012’s top heel, Jonny Firestorm, take total possession of 2012’s top babyface in 2012’s best squash of the year, Jobberpaloozer 12, when he makes Jake oblivious.

Having put in my time marveling at Jake today, let me simply offer my assurances to BG East’s winner of best abs and best debut of 2012 that I’ll be stroking his ego as well, soon!

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Alex introduces us to a new masked rookie.

Continuing the theme of provocatively told stories of homoerotic wrestling, I’ve updated both of the wrestling fiction sites I administer.  Over at Sidelineland, the communal collection of fiction from multiple authors, Alex’ newest chapter in The Cave Undercard series is up, introducing us to a new rook named Skull, breaking into the business of high stakes internet erotic wrestling.

Determined to break in the newbie is the return of Thunder.

Skull is up against a juicy cut of beef Alex introduced to us before, who wrestles as Thunder.  Can Cody’s protege, Skull, do any better against Thunder than Cody managed as the Pink Punk?  I’ll try not to spoil it for you, but I will say everyone (starting with me) finishes this story satisfied.

Ben Godfre inspires yet another of my homoerotic wrestling fantasies.

It’s been ages and ages since I pulled together a new match in my other fiction group, Producer’s Ring.  This collection of stories is about 95% authored by me, pulling from a recurring nightmare/erotic fantasy combo of a post-apocalyptic world in which homoerotic wrestling matches frequently determine the fate of geopolitical power across the globe.  This new story, in the Secretarial Pool series, picks up were “Global Cooperation” left off.  The executive assistants to Eli Brody (coincidentally all fitness and fashion models with insanely savvy business sense) are back at it, doing their best to play nice with executive hardbodies from rival empires.  One of my longest running fictional celebrity wrestling infatuations, Ben Godfre, is back in action and has more than his hands full.  Whereas Alex gives us a taste of beef and bears, this Producer’s Ring match is a battle of pretty boys.

Jislain Duval debuts in the Producer’s Ring.

Ben’s antagonist was specifically handpicked by a reader and fan of the Secretarial Pool.  The French Canadian sexpot, Jislain Duval, heads into the lion’s den of Eli Brody’s headquarters to hammer out a profitable partnership with Brody Productions, one way or another.  Of course, this is my imagination and the Producer’s Ring, so the one way is a sweat-soaked battle of bodies and will with suits watching on and the balance of world power teetering (and there is no other way).

Producer’s Ring fans of the character Jared will get a glimpse of what he’s been up to, as well.

I have a ton of projects started, as well as a few writing obligations currently demanding my attention, but I’m thrilled to have some new material in both Sidelineland and Producer’s Ring to share.  You can keep the Sidelineland group fresh by send me your pieces of original homoerotic wrestling fiction to share.  And members of both groups are reminded that a little feedback and a reasonable does of positive reinforcement (as in comments) goes a long way to nurturing the writing bug for folks like Alex and me and other potential authors.

Telling Stories

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Regular readers know my tastes.  I’m not coy about being being particularly turned on by action in a wrestling ring, guys with tattoos, muscular asses, shaved heads, hair pulling, erotic tag teams, over-the-knee backbreakers, trapped in the ropes muscle torture, ego-bashing trash talk, overcoming long odds, and story telling (just to name a few of my favorite things).  If I absolutely had to give up all but one of those things, I think I’d have to hang out to the bitter end for my lustful desire for a well-told story.  I’m a drama/melodrama junkie, and wedded with homoerotic wrestling, a compelling story with 3 dimensional characters, a story arc, a climax and a sexually dominating denouement is powerfully satisfying for me.  Thus my delight in homoerotic wrestling fiction (writing it, but especially reading that of others).   I’ve also lately been particularly titillated to learn that some of the juiciest morsels from the pages of this blog and my fondest homoerotic wrestling matches have also begun blogging.

Monaco on the mats.

Ben Monaco is the latest wrestler that I know of who’s started documenting his journey into on camera homoerotic wrestling with his blog, Monaco Off the Mats.  His first post is text-intensive, meaning I’m already powerfully aroused, as Ben describes this new chapter in his life in which a chance encounter on Grindr led inevitably down the path toward Ben’s metamorphosis into a rising star in the homoerotic wrestling business.

Most recently, Ben got his hands (and tongue) all over massive rookie Alain LeClair in Mat Scraps 2.

Check out Ben’s story and encourage him to keep up the narrative, because I’m going to blow an artery if I don’t get to read subsequent chapters of his journey.  He’s also offered to answer questions, and I know I for one have been cataloging new ones to ask ever since he granted me an interview soon after his debut for BG East.  I find that blogging is work, my friends, and a healthy dose of positive reinforcement is essential to enduring lapses in motivation to keep going, so get on Monaco Off the Mats and tell Ben you want to know what happens next!

That Ginger Guy!

My recently slapped down top contender and long-time title holder of my favorite homoerotic wrestler (and BG East’s 2012 winner for Best Butt) Kid Karisma, has a blog that he updates irregularly, but delightfully when he does.  That Ginger Guy! (perfectly named, to match his physical perfection), hasn’t been updated in a few months, sadly.  Personally, I’m dying to know if he lost the ginger whiskers once No Shave November was over (’cause I’m saying right now I’d like to see those full blown whiskers in the ring!).  And who’s with me in harboring a crazy lust to watch the karismatic one crush objects between those rugby-built quads?  And I’m still hoping to see some incriminating post-party, slack jawed, drooling evidence of what homoerotic wrestling’s most infamous party boy looks like in the back seat on the way home.  We know that Kid K will dish, god bless him, and I can’t think of a better theme for That Ginger Guy! than a much needed gossip rag for the homoerotic wrestling industry.  Pass the word along and let’s get Kid K back at the keyboard.

Cameron Mathews sells the goods.

Cameron Mathews launched his personal/professional wrestling website last summer, and he’s done a decent job of keeping the material fresh and liberally laced with beefcake.  He tends to be a man of relatively few words, but they’re typically well-chosen and paired with some sweet video and stills, CameronWrestler.com offers some inspiring insights into the hardest working homoerotic wrestler on the scene.  He’s also periodically selling Cameron-memorabilia for his army of fans to purchase, like his current sale on liberally sweat-stained trunks (it’s never too early to start Christmas shopping for Bard, friends).  Most provocatively, I think, is Cam’s offer to tape custom wrestling matches, and there are a boatload of testimonials bearing evidence that his Pro vs. Joe private bookings leave his fans supremely satisfied.

What naughty thoughts is Aryx thinking now?

My most recent interviewee, Aryx Quinn, has more of Twitter presence than anything else on the internet, but he does have a website that’s been promising a new, expanded source for all things Aryx for quite a while.  I hope that those of you populating the Twittersphere will start bombarding @TristanBaldwin with pleas for more Aryx Quinn wrestling access.

Drake Marcos knows drama.

For months I’ve been encouraging ambitious rookie Drake Marcos to start blogging about his journey into the hearts and lusts of homoerotic wrestling fans (and a particular homoerotic wrestling producer who’s clearly taken a shine to the eager baby face beauty).  Drake keeps promising me it’s on his to-do list.

Talk about a story to tell!

And then there are plenty more homoerotic wrestlers I think ought to blog.  I know for a fact Kid Leopard is online at least 25 hours out of every day.  Can you imagine some free association narrative from the man who’s gone from down and dirty heel to heading his own international wrestling empire?!

Tease no more, Kid Vicious!

And please, people, if you know Kid Vicious, tell him he’s GOT TO either give me that interview he’s been teasing me with for (I kid you not) at least 8 months, or launch a Kid Vicious blog to let us get a glimpse of the dark recesses of his fantastically homoerotically kinked wrestling mind.

Do you need a kidney, Lon!?

I’d sell a kidney for more access to Lon Dumont, as well.  Pro wrestler turned competitive bodybuilder turned homoerotic wrestler!?  That’s worth a made for TV movie at the barest minimum, and much more obviously deserves some custom-made Lon served up for some voracious fans (line starts directly behind ME!).

Clearly Brad Rochelle knows his way around a keyboard.

Yes, I love a story told well.  And I’m sure that there are other wrestlers we could think of that we’d like to hear much, much more from.  Then again, I’m sure not every homoerotic wrestler fancies clicking away at a keyboard, but I’m equally certain (and I have documentation to prove it) that there are more than a few wrestling fantasymen adept and accomplished in crafting the English language into compelling and erotically satisfying narrative.  I’m typically a half a decade behind the times, but I’m hoping against hope that more web presence and online drama is where the hot world of homoerotic wrestling is heading!

Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month

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My long absence from posting is mostly a side effect of life, however my transition from a laptop to an iPad has put a kink in my blogging accessibility.  I either need to find a better Blogger app or learn HTML.  In the mean time, I’ll squeeze in posts when I actually have my butt in my desk chair and my fingers on my desktop keyboard.  I’m coming in way late for selecting a homoerotic wrestler of the month, so among the many things piling up for me to post about, I’m putting that at the top of today’s list.  The field seems a little sparse, though that may be a function of me not having my eye on the industry in February as devotedly as I typically do.  BG East is between catalogs, and Can-Am is continuing the long drought of new wrestling releases (last October!?).  Thunder’s has a new bright, shiny toy dangling in front of my eyes that goes by the name of Dakota, who’s suddenly appeared in 3 new releases earning nominations for him as well as Lex, former HWOTM Z-Man, and sweet piece of meat Ken (Mat Rats 36, 34 and 31 respectively).  I also love a fratboy vs bodybuilder mismatch, so Tak and Specimen get in line for contention with Mat Rats 32.  I’ve already waxed infatuated about Rock Hard Wrestling’s Stretched and Split, in which triple threat Will Stanley (body, tats and accent) takes a licking and keeps on ticking against perennial badass punk Ethan Andrews.  New kids on the block, Muscle Domination Wrestling, are scratching an itch left from the silence of Can-Am lately, proving they’ve got their eye squarely on the gay wrestling kink audience with Morgan Cruise and Tony Law wrestling naked in the ring (now that’s a formula for success!) in their VIP lounge downloads of Naked Nut Grab and Steamy Wrestling (the product names aren’t nearly as innovative as the matches themselves).  SteelMuscleGod again teamed up with my guilty pleasure, Wimpy Boy, for a delightful head scissors exhibition, getting a nod and a nomination from me for February’s hottest performances.

Is it my imagination, or is the field unusually shallow this month?!  Not to say anything negative about any one of the nominees (mostly because that just gets me in trouble),  but I have to say, in the aggregate, the average homoerotic wrestling release for February 2013 was simply not as hot as I’ve been accustomed to lately.  Wasn’t it just a few months ago I was referring to our new Golden Age of homoerotic wrestling?  I’m officially putting out a call for suggestions for a new homoerotic wrestling fix, because while Can-Am has gone dormant and when BG East is between catalogs, I’m missing something new, innovative, and inspiring.  Muscle Domination looks like my best chance for a new infatuation, but the video quality and quality of wrestling needs to continue to improve to keep up with their creativity.  SMG just has to growl and I’m turned on, but his wrestling fetish work is more fetish than wrestling lately, hampering his chances at being a headliner in the field.  That said, there’s one wrestler who I’m calling out of this field as decidedly above average, who legitimately revved my engine and made me swoon.  If this field were tighter, he might not have managed grabbing the ring, but that shouldn’t minimize the effect that this particularly enjoyable muscle hunk had on me in February.  With all of those caveats and words of caution out of the way, my newest pick for homoerotic wrestler of the month is…

… Rock Hard Wrestling’s Will Stanley.

I’ve already given a detailed blow by blow of this match, so I’ll try not to repeat myself too much.  The first thing that grabbed me about Will here is the skin-tight-cat-suit of a singlet he wears.  I’m not nearly as focused on gear as I know many of you are, but damn, damn, DAMN, Mr. Stanley wears that singlet OUT!  There’s something gorgeously classic about the gear choice that gives me a hit of watching old British pro wrestling on youtube.  And it proves the old adage that sometime the sexiest outfit is not the skimpiest.
Nylon clad British beef

Lovely Will looks like he was poured into that navy blue nylon.  It sucks to every eye catching bulge and cranny.  When Ethan is doing what, arguably, Ethan does best (showing off the muscled bod of an opponent), there’s something insanely tactile and alluring about Will’s bulging crotch, powerful pecs, and those sweet as honey muscled glutes he’s packing inside of that stunningly stretched fabric.

Like me, that skin tight singlet just wants to cling to that gorgeously muscled body!

It’s Will that goes for ripping his opponent’s singlet straps down first, scoring him major league points in my estimation.  He nothing but contemptuous of Ethan’s lean bod, but that doesn’t stop him from dialing up the heat by exploiting a moment of vulnerability and peeling Ethan’s singlet straps down.  Score a big one for the physique star!  Ethan follows suit not long afterward, and sweet mother of god, the Britboy’s torso is once again classically stunning.  I love how the singlet is so fucking tight around his torso that it stays plastered to his upper abs for quite a while as Ethan returns the favor of exploiting his opponent in a moment of vulnerability.

Will shuts his eyes tightly to pretend his humiliation isn’t being caught on camera.

Those shiny, straining, flexing pecs, veiny delta, and writhing six pack abs tortured in the ropes is pretty much exactly why ring wrestling is automatically more erotic for my tastes by a factor of about 10.  The combination of agony contorting Mr. Stanley’s handsome face and his determined prediction of Ethan’s impending doom, even as Ethan has him by the shorthairs, is fantastic.  Score yet another big one for my growing infatuation with the Brit beauty.

That skinny git just fucked me up!?!?
Ethan takes the first fall with a submission.  Will is a supremely tasty treat flat on his back with his eyes closed as if refusing to see the truth that a “skinny kid” like Ethan just schooled his seriously fine ass.  That Ethan does not capitalize on the moment to pry this bulging stud the rest of the way out of that epic singlet is 2% an indictment of Ethan and 98% an indictment of Rock Hard Wrestling, I think.  We know for a fact that Ethan is well aware that his expert work is being consumed ravenously by gay fans aching to see him own this vulnerable hunk of British beef (no horse meat here!). And if Mr. Stanley isn’t fully aware of the star power packed inside that unrealized moment of getting stripped to a more modest layer of fight gear, with a bod like that he should be.  We’ve seen him in gorgeously tight trunks, so the missed opportunity of watching Ethan pull out a crow bar and peel that sucker off as Will lies there checking his ego is hard to watch.

Will’s muscles, like his ego, swell stunningly once he’s got momentum going his way.
Not hard to watch, however, is Will’s body as it seems to swell like a balloon the harder he works and the sweatier he grows in this match.  Those shoulders alone seem to take him from from a 44L to a 48L suit coat in about 5 minutes.  He’s got lovely everything, of course, but that hip tat peaking out over the top of his peeled down singlet is simply awesome, and further evidence both of the allure of a teasing glimpse and the missed opportunity of not ripping that navy blue nylon the rest of the way off of his body.

British beef pretzel

Ethan makes Will hurt (score Ethan!), a lot, often humiliatingly.  Seeing a big, powerful, sculpted body like that owned and contorted as big Will’s face twists like a tornado is fantastic homoerotic drama.  When Ethan is pounding out riding time, there’s not a corner of Will’s body that isn’t displayed to perfection and served up like the 4-star dish it is.  Will takes a beating and gets tied up like a pretzel, and a 6’1″ 185 pound gym bunny who can pull that off and still rack his opponent like a barbell and pump out squats in the middle of the ring at the end of it all is an obvious contender for my affections.

Ethan stares up at the face of my new homoerotic wrestler of the month.
Will Stanley has a long way to go if he’s going to be a serious staple in my diet of recurring favorite homoerotic wrestlers, but he’s got a golden foundation of beautiful muscles and a sharp wit made all the more cutting by a working class English accent.  He doesn’t entirely own the ring, so I’m longing to see his ring skills get as pumped up as those massive deltoid muscles.  But he does, however, own Ethan Andrews delightfully and decisively, stroking my fantasies and keeping my eyes riveted on his every move, clinch, flex and strut, earning him a relative newcomer’s uncharacteristic awarding of my homoerotic wrestler of the month.  Keep up the good work, Will.

Where’d Your Banter Go!? Where’s Your Mouth!?

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A trash talking, 6’1″ fitness model with an English accent… hello, Mr. Stanley!  Stretched and Split is Rock Hard Wrestling’s latest release starring said Britboy, Will Stanley.  The whole package is delightful, but those shoulders and that sexy as fuck hip tat are out of this world.  This match between Will and frequent tormentor Ethan Andrews is deeply satisfying and a gorgeous study in contrasts.

Will Stanley’s sculpted muscles glisten as he taunts and dominates Ethan Andrews

Will is jumping rope in the ring as the scene opens.  He rocks that skin tight navy blue singlet so hard it makes me gasp.  Some gear excels by it’s strategic absence, the expanse of skin left exposed.  Will’s singlet is stunning (well, Will is stunning in it) because of it’s presence, the obvious strain of the fabric as it molds to the bulges and crevices of this beautiful specimen.  It looks like something out of a 1950’s film, white piping, modestly square cut around Will’s powerful thighs, molded high up underneath his arms and covering at least half of the expanse of his broad chest. But there’s little left to the imagination.   His pecs and bulge bounce underneath as he dances on his toes, the jump rope moving so fast it’s pretty much invisible even in high definition.

Ethan has been on a roll, kicking hornets nests and picking fights with physique stars.  As he climbs into the ring with that permanent smirk tattooed on his face, he adopts a poorly executed faux English accent and snarls, “British wanker!”

I haven’t seen the tag team loss Ethan reminds Will of, but apparently Ethan was on the winning end of a double pretty boy beatdown over Will.  Ethan suggests that Will should probably be on the market for a better partner to watch his back (count me in!).  “I’m not interested,” the Brit snaps.  When Ethan finally tells the Brit to get out of his ring like the queen dismissing her subjects, Will is not amused.  “No, you can leave now. I was in the middle of my training.  I was here first.  It’s not your ring anymore.  I told you this. Off you go, come on.”  That “off you go” delivered with an English accent (and packaged inside an incredibly sculpted body) makes me laugh and adjust myself at the same time.  In those three words, he successfully communicates his contempt for Ethan, shooing him away like an adult slapping the ass of a petulant child.

In return, Ethan sucker punches the stud in the gut.  Ethan’s genius is his ability to set the pace, mount a pounding offense, and completely sell his capacity to not stand toe-to-toe with a towering physique star like Will, but out hustle, out maneuver, and dig deeper into his bag of dirty tricks to outsmart an opponent possibly overconfident in his superior conditioning.  He pounds Will with fists, backing the big Brit into the corner.  He’s relentless and focused, raining down blows that seem to make the lovely muscle stud wilt.  And yet, even while being choked beneath Ethan’s boot in the corner, the Brit stud sounds like he’s the one on top.  “You got nothing!  You should be taking notes!”

Ethan takes Will’s bulging muscles to the ropes early to knock the big man down to size.

Will’s mouth is the unexpected break out star in this match for me.  Early on, I have no idea if all those luscious muscles will be enough to dig the Brit beauty out of the hole Ethan digs for him, but holy hell, that trash talking, English accented mouth on Will is fucking awesome!  Ethan traps the stud in the ropes, stretching out Will’s beautiful muscles vulnerably as the heel pounds his mile wide back with kicks and knees.  He’s in a completely defenseless position.  Ethan is making mincemeat of all that glorious beef.  And still, it’s Will who snarls, “You just wait till I get up!” Ethan sits on his back, riding him like a thoroughbred while choking Will in the the rope.  “Enjoy it while you can, huh!” Will growls, demonstrating that even with Ethan’s entire bodyweight bearing down, he can’t hold the powerpacked Brit down.  “You put some more weight on there and it’d be so much more effective… fucking string bean!”

The “fucking string bean” owns the fitness model throughout most of round 1.

Ethan’s further genius is his accomplished skill at setting a plate.  Just like he did so gorgeously with Lon Dumont in BG East’s Hair Stakes match, he dishes up Will’s incredible physique tantalizingly.  With a backbreaker, he shows off the Brit’s sculpted body underneath that teasing singlet, prying the big boy backward and highlighting the beautiful beef in his pouch.  While Will’s obviously a serious athlete, Ethan’s clearly the one with superior ring savvy and wrestling experience.  He transitions from hold to hold smoothly and decisively.  A single leg crab allows the heel to punch the shit out of Will’s hamstring, sitting low on top of the Brit’s meaty ass.  Milking the hold (for possibly a fraction too briefly… RHW’s achilles heel, I think), Ethan abruptly flings the captured leg down and quickly scoops up the Brit hunk, giving that stunning muscled ass a squeeze on the way to slamming his back into the mat.

I want to lick that tricep!

Will grabs hold of the offense his first chance, outmuscling the heel and quickly mounting him, planting those big hands around Ethan’s throat and throttling him.  “Told you it wasn’t going to last long!”  The Brit’s got some smooth skills as well, transitioning to an arm bar and threatening to snap Ethan off at the elbow.  “How’s that feel, huh?” Will mouth woos me.  “You like that, huh?  You won’t be using this arm for a little while!”  It’s Will who peels the singlet straps off of Ethan first, to get a better view of the geography he’s raining down blows into.  Back on mount, he bashes Ethan’s gut with fists and then digs his fingers deep into the heel’s powerful core.  “How’s that feel, huh?  One day you might have abs too, huh?”

“Since you like strapless so much…!” Ethan returns the favor, exposing the muscle hunk’s torso.

The Brit beauty pushes his luck and leaves himself open for Ethan to reverse, which the veteran does commandingly.  “Since you like strapless so much,” Ethan peels the straps over the big man’s bulging shoulders.  Holy shit!  Forcibly half-disrobed, Will is amazing!  And that singlet is so insanely tight it clings to his ribs even as Ethan rains down blows into the big man’s mouthwatering pecs.  “Lookin’ and what you could have!?” Will taunts again from the bottom position.  Ethan’s transition to a Boston crab makes the big man groan, but on the receiving end of it, Will still taunts, “My abs needed a little stretch.”  The heel takes the stubborn muscle stud back to the ropes to stretch out that eye-catching torso.  Will’s pecs glisten under the lights as Ethan pounds his fists into it.  He endures the punishment admirably, but when Ethan threatens to decapitate the handsome hunk, literally hanging from Will’s neck, the Brit beauty finally gives away the first fall.  “God save the queen?!” Ethan snaps derisively. “God save YOU!”

“God save the queen!?  God save you!”

Staring with round 2 and lasting through the end of the match, Will has dragged his singlet straps down low, showing off the ink stretching from his hip and disappearing underneath his gear pointing toward his crotch.  His lucious ass cheeks bulge out over the top of the fabric sagging.  Ethan maintains the momentum for a while, latching onto Will’s injured leg like a terrier and pounding the shit out of is with stomps, knee drops, and kicks.  “Let’s see you try to stand on that now!” The heel’s rear naked choke once again displays Will’s mouthwatering bulge and naked torso stunningly. “I bet you’re wishing you were in England right now, snacking on your fish and chips!” smart mouthed Ethan taunts.

“Pretty good for a little guy, but it’s not going to last!” Will snaps right back.  That cocky banter from below turns me on so hard!  When Ethan mounts the stud and pummels his abs, the physique star flinches and flexes defensively, but through gritted teeth he maintains his hold on the verbal/psychological offense.  “I’m used to that shit.  It’s called conditioning.  You should try it!”  The stud remains Ethan’s bitch for a couple more minutes of increasing humiliation, including getting slammed into the turnbuckle and then mounted by his lean opponent, Ethan’s ass pounding up and down on top of Will’s sculpted chest.  Ethan slaps him in the face.  “Wakey, wakey,” he taunts.

Will’s most awesome, wild ride.

It might have been wise to leave the fitness model half asleep, because the moment Will leap frogs over a clothesline attempt, Ethan’s in for a shit load of muscle bullying.  All that smart ass trash talk from Ethan, all that muscle torture, suddenly gets served back to him in spades.  Will traps Ethan in the rope and begins the prolonged revenge session.  Again, too briefly he lets go of his opponent’s vulnerability in service of keeping up “the action” (which, I would argue, is actually secondary to selling the bone and soul crushing domination… but maybe that’s just me), but happily he quickly captures Ethan’s head between those gorgeous, massive, milky thighs.  “Feels good, huh!?” the Brit returns to wooing me.  Yes, yes, yes! I yell at my screen.  Where, oh where can I sign up for that ride!?

Will reminds Ethan of the insult he inflicted upon interrupting Will’s work out.

There’s a feel of an avalanche behind the muscle stud’s offense as he dominates more and more overwhelmingly.  Multiple times he leans over, peels Ethan flat off the mat, and hoists the battered heal up into his arms.  A rear bearhug nearly makes me explode as he bounces Ethan up and down, his pelvis thrust forward against the heel’s ass (me next! me next!).  It takes a lot to out trash talk Ethan Andrews, but as the wrestling offense slides securely into his grasp, Will’s arousing banter does nothing but turn hotter.  “You got nothing on me!” he taunts.  “Come on, get up!” he insists, only to kick Ethan back to the mat when he tries. “Because you disturbed my little training session,” Will uses his jump rope to choke Ethan.  He doesn’t need to at this point to even the score, but the submission isn’t Will’s primary purpose here, because he knows what he’s doing.  His purpose is to tell the story, which he does with skill that surprises and delights me.  “You got puny little legs, you need to go do some squats,”  he sneers, peeling Ethan backward, threatening to break his neck and/or back (whichever goes first).  “Look who’s beatin’ you!” the Brit snarls, pulling on Ethan’s hair to pry his face backward to look at his tormentor eye to eye.  The helpless heel submits. “Get out of my face, you disgust me!” Will snaps, throwing Ethan’s face to the mat and climbing to his feet.  He stalks in circles around Ethan’s body.  “Come back when you’re in my weight class!” he sneers down.

“Look who’s beatin’ you!”

As they start round 3, I’m completely sold on Will.  I’ll lose as many loads as the next guy on the muscled beauty who gets bashed and beaten by the less physically conditioned but more savvy opponent, but a big, beautiful, powerfully muscled, cocky as hell, masterfully trash talking fitness model (with an English accent!!!) can have me body and soul and leave me pulling for the muscle bully to work his magic.  When they lock up in a collar and elbow, Will taunts, “This is when muscle comes in handy, man!”  And true enough, he outmuscles Ethan and captures him in a gorgeous side headlock, grinding the heel’s face against his flexing pec and dragging Ethan stumbling around the ring.  “How’s that, comfortable, huh!?”

As the action is nearing its climax, Ethan shocks his powerhouse opponent with another attack on those  lickable legs.  He dishes up another gorgeously presented plate of muscled vulnerability, grapevining and then spladling the Brit hunk’s legs open wide, ass toward the ceiling, and threatening to rip him apart at the crotch.  “How does that feel!?” Ethan snarls, exhaustion evident in his voice.

“It’s fine!” Will grunts through gritted teeth. “I can deal with it!”

“It’s fine!  I can deal with it,” Will grunts back, obviously in pain but perhaps not quite as exhausted.  Perhaps serving up the ultimate I-told-you-so, it’s Will’s conditioning that seems to be the story as Ethan can’t keep his grip on the offense.  Will muscles free and back on top, decisively securing a standing surfboard that threatens to rip Ethan’s arms out at the shoulders.  The heel is fading fast, and Will delights in slowly (that’s what I’m talking about!) dragging his opponent to his feet by fistfuls of sweaty hair, only to taunt him and throw him back down again.   “Look at me when Im beating you!” the cocky Brit barks, rolling Ethan to his back.  Ethan’s done.  You know it.  Will knows it.  Ethan knows it.  The Brit looks down at him and can’t help but laugh.  “Look at you man!  Are you strugglin’?”  he uses Ethan as a punching bag in the corner.  He powers out a beautiful snap suplex out of the corner, slamming Ethan’s lower back into the center of the ring.  “Come on, get up!”  he taunts, throwing Ethan over one shoulder in a backbreaker and bouncing up and down as Ethan wails.  He pumps out some taunting squats with his opponent hanging over his shoulder helplessly, Will showing off his gorgeous quads.  About 2 minutes after we all saw Ethan’s doom written on the wall, the stunned heel gives up again.

“Where’d your banter go!? Where’s your mouth!?”

And then demonstrating a sadistic genius of his own that I didn’t know to expect from him, Will looks down and growls, “You know I don’t think that was enough.  I’m still not happy!”  He drags Ethan back to his feet to snap on a sleeper.  Ethan slowly sags in Will’s overwhelming muscle embrace.  “Where’d your banter go, huh?” Will taunts as Ethan goes slack in his arms.  “Where’s your mouth?” he asks as he puts Ethan out cold.  “Exactly what I thought! You sleep well, buttercup!”

This has been a tough couple of months for Ethan’s new releases.  My reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler,  Lon Dumont sleepered him out cold and shut up his smart mouth decisively for BG East in Hair Stakes, and now big and beautiful Will does the same for RHW.  All I can say is keep up that fantastically sexy work, Ethan!  Pick another fight with a stacked muscle stud because I (like I suspect you) seriously enjoy the muscleboys battling back to beat the living shit out of you and shut you up in the only way that seems to work.  And Mr. Will Stanley, I can’t wait to see you barely squeezed into that singlet again, and just as importantly stripped out of it on your way to bullying and beating up another smart mouthed punk!