Clint Morgan 2 [Guest Blogger: Alex]

So in my first Clint Morgan post, I said I pulled out two matches. The second one was Clint Morgan vs. BBW from BG’s Champions.

Unlike the other match I pulled, this is a more standard three falls affair, set in a ring. Morgan stretches out, waiting for his opponent. He definitely looks good to me, but also “of the time.” BBW already has all the swagger and attitude that makes him an icon. He brings handcuffs and his valet (that he won in a prior match), both of which come into play. Morgan gets no respect from BBW, other than a nod to his size. Once again, there’s a lot of back-and-forth, with the men splitting the first two falls. Unlike the match against Rogers, where I can point to the set-up and ending as unique in my collection, I can’t really say why I like this so much. Maybe it’s nostalgia. This match was old when I got it, but it was still one of my first. Action-wise, it’s pretty comparable to stuff today, with the same sort of holds and banter. Would it be worth seeking out? Not sure, but watching it again recently gave me the same reaction as watching it many years ago.
Morgan doing his best Incredible Hulk impression
BBW let’s us know who’s in charge
Now this is how it’s done, kids
BBW doesn’t seem to respect the big stud
Maybe he should, though
Ah, somebody needs a hug!
One good rack…
…deserves another
BBW shows off, keeping the big stud up there like he weighs nothing
Wait, shouldn’t BBW be using the hold from Boston?
Wearing white doesn’t make you a good guy
Ah, gotta love that mullet

A Contract Worth Signing [Guest Blogger: Alex]

 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


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!

Wrestling Romance

Valentines Day typically leaves me cold.  Rampant, conspicuous displays of heterosexual romance get on my nerves. But I feel like reclaiming the day for myself this year. One of my fondest devices in homoerotic wrestling is the tender turn after a seriously nasty, bitter battle. When the winner claims his prize and both wrestlers are as enthusiastic about carnal delights as corporal punishment, I’m seriously sold.  Thumbing through the file cabinet in my head (augmented by the search function in my favorite homoerotic wrestling sites), I’m coming up with a sadly short list of my top tender moments in homoerotic wrestling. It’s a satisfying jaunt down memory lane, however. So for this month’s reader’s poll, let me just ask you: which romantic wrestling pair should be crowned Mr. and Mr. Valentines Day Wrestling Couple of 2012?

Art Imitating Life: Christian Taylor and Skip Vance

Skip Vance and Christian Taylor get the pole position in this race to the climax, because Skip has let it be known through his Facebook page that he and Christian are, in real life, long-time lovers. This sent me (and at least one reader I’ve heard from) scurrying back to their ferocious mat room battle in Sexy Showdown 6: Sexier to reconsider the nasty humiliation and pain that these two hot, hard, lean grapplers pour out onto each other before settling in for some naked, sweaty, tender tongue wrestling. These boys get more hot and bothered the meaner the action turns, making me picture infinite homoerotic wrestling scenarios in the Taylor/Vance household. These two sweat soaked boys with their crotches grinding and their lips hovering over each other could totally redeem Valentines Day for me. How about you?

Teasing Done: Rafael Valmor and Blaine Janus

I have no idea what Rafael Valmor and Blaine Janus’ relationship is off the mat, but on the mat in Undagear 18, it was mind-blowing. Other things blew for me as well, and in no small part it was due to the gorgeous tension that Rafael builds by adamantly refusing to let Blaine kiss him throughout their increasingly amorous mat battle. You can just about see Blaine’s balls turn blue inside his tight red trunks as he wrings another sweat-soaked submission out of the Latin lover and leans in to taste victory, only to be shoved away as the brown-eyed boy refuses to give it away for free. Butts get squeezed with rising passion. The submissions get uglier. And once Blaine is just finally wasted with sexy Rafael stretched out on top of him, the curly haired adonis slaps on that priceless kiss on nobody’s but his own terms. Now that’s a love story worthy of Shakespeare! And it’s also an entirely convincing option for Rafael and Blaine to be the 2012 Mr. and Mr. Valentines Day Wrestling Couple.

Sure Thing: Marc Rion and Mitch Colby

On a completely different end of the spectrum (at least when it comes to bodies), I’m also strongly drawn to the outrageously hot sexual tension that rages like a wildfire from the first second Mitch Colby  steps onto the mat with one-hit-wonder Marc Rion as the climax (and I mean climax!) of Mitch’s Wrestler Spotlight.  Holy shit, their bodies are both off the charts, and I don’t care how good of actors they are, there’s some genuine lust slapped down all over their naked bodies! They’re so hot for one another, in fact, that the wrestling is nearly tossed out the window, which would be a cardinal sin in my book. Happily, they manage to get some hot, dominating wrestling in on top of other cardinal sins, earning my profound pleasure and a competitive bid to be poster boys for my Valentines Day redux.

Just can’t hide it: Jared Curzon and Gabriel Ross
Boy toy Gabriel Ross also sometimes dances just this side of forgetting the wrestling in my wrestling fare. But he and Jared Curzon strike such a heart-melting scene in their Motel Madness UK 5 tussle! Again, they’re raging hot for one another from go, and they’re so fucking adorable as to be nearly too sweet to swallow. Get a load of Jared’s luscious ass and monster cock, however, and you’ll reconsider any reluctance to swallow that you might have had. The back and forth between passionate embrace and bearhug makes my heart (and other parts of my anatomy) pound, and I would have no trouble seeing them as the redeeming Valentine’s Day for homoerotic wrestling fans.

Signed, Sealed, Delivered: Sean Patrick and Bud Orton
It’s hard to make a list of wrestling matches with over the top sexual tension turned tender without seeing Sean Patrick show up at least once. The infamous “Kisser” of classic BG East days, Sean slapped his lips on his opponents’ time after time, clearly turned on by the intimacy of domination wrestling. Pretty much anything on Sean’s wrestling resume could qualify, but I think this shot of him from Sexy Showdown 4 making out with always amorous Bud Orton while simultaneously locking him up tight in an ass-up, body contorting, completely humiliating spladle seems like it could be the iconic image of the erotic component of homoerotic wrestling. Oh yeah, sweat pours off of them like Niagra falls and the wrestling is fucking fierce! How do you feel about Sean and Bud being Mr. and Mr. Valentine around here?
Three’s Company: Shane McCall, Brooklyn Bodywrecker
and Liam Ryan
Another image that I’ve remarked on many times on this blog is the victory celebration with tag team partners Shane McCall and Brooklyn Bodywrecker sucking face in Tag Team Torture 2 while one half of the losing team, sexy little Liam Ryan, sucks on Shane’s cock through his trunks. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times, this story has GOT to be repeated, because there’s just nothing sexier than tag team partners/lovers battling for domination and getting more and more aroused as they pick to pieces and utterly humiliate their losing opponents (who are also lovers)! And eroticism in the ring is at least 20 times hotter than it is anywhere else, as far as I’m concerned! Maybe it’s not fair, but this pic proves the delightful possibility that the hottest homoerotic wrestling couple could easily be a threesome (or more)!  Shane, BBW and Liam get my nod as connecting all the dots between tender loving and hard slamming homoerotic wrestling.

Masks and Melting: The Enforcer and Blueboy

Again in the ring, the stunning image from Masked Mayhem 4 of Blueboy making big, bad bruiser Enforcer melt in the corner as he nibbles on his lips and prominent chin turns… me… ON! Two gorgeous bodies, masked in mystery and coated in sweat are a formula for arousing wrestling. But with Blueboy toying with the big heel’s nipple and leaning in close, crotch to crotch and tasting the hunky heel’s mouth, I’m totally turned into a blubbering romantic fool. Maybe Mr. and Mr. Valentines Day Wrestling Couple 2012 are hot, horny masked men?
Hurt So Good: Cruze/Jose and Patrick/Sean

Like I said, it’s hard not to have at least one Sean Patrick match on a list like this, and so here’s a second (with another recurring nominee).  I think of this as another iconic image in homoerotic wrestling from Tag Team Torture 1, with Jose and Cruze heaping agony and humiliation onto Sean and Patrick Donovan in the closing moments of their incredibly sexy victory. Stripped naked, locked into mirror image camel clutches and forced to kiss in the middle of the ring, Patrick and Sean prove that the erotic heat doesn’t have to come from opposite sides of the confrontation. Perhaps this is the most iconic image of homoerotic wrestling passion, and the winning “couple” is, in this case, a foursome of hot, horny, hung hunks with bodies locked together in gorgeous symmetry and power and complete domination.

So who do you think should get the nod? You only get one vote. Of course, these are only the nominees that came to my mind. You may have another set of favorites to suggest. So vote in the right margin, and if you select “other,” then name your wrestling picks for who should be Mr. and Mr. Valentines Day Wrestling Couple 2012.

Real Friends

I’ve got deadlines coming out my ears, so things have been pretty quiet around here lately. That isn’t to suggest that I’m not thoroughly immersed in the world of homoerotic wrestling still. Somehow, there always seems to be time for that in my life, in one form or another.

BG East Boss, Kid Leopard, makes Sailor Rob his bitch
I was exchanging emails with a long-time online contact and writing collaborator a couple of days ago. We know each other primarily through the venue of homoerotic wrestling fiction.  I mentioned in my last email something about BG East. He replied that he’d never heard of them.
Kid Vicious meditates on the connection between pain and pleasure

Wha-ha-huh?! I studied his reply closer to figure out where I was misreading it. But no. Never heard of BG East. Was he joking? It doesn’t look like it. He apparently loves some hot, erotic, beautifully bodied wrestling but is unaware of BG East, which by their own account have been producing exactly that (hot, erotic, beautifully bodied wrestling) since 1980! I became aware of them about 14 or 15 years ago, and I’ve been pretty much obsessed ever since. So imagine my shock to learn that a fellow kinkster who totally gets off on the same sort of wrestling action that I do (as far as I can tell from comparing wrestling fiction notes), has absolutely no idea who BG East is.

Badboy Joe Mazetti folds hunky Brad Rochelle up like gift wrap
Simply amazing! This disclosure reveals a few things to me. For one, this online collaborator clearly does not frequently read this blog. It’s simply impossible that someone could even occasionally read neverland and come away having never heard of BG East (or any of the other companies I finance with my homoerotic wrestling purchases, but especially BG East). Most of the feedback and ongoing conversations I’m involved in start with something I’ve said on the blog, so it catches me off guard that someone who knows my wrestling kink rather well doesn’t linger much around these parts. No shame, mind you. I’m not suggesting there’s anything wrong with not reading my frequently convoluted, often self-contradictory musings about what turns me on about homoerotic wrestling. Just surprised that someone who’s read a lot of my writing doesn’t read it here much.
Jonny Firestorm is out to destroy prettyboy Alexi Adamov
More interestingly for me, this revelation surprises me because I figure everyone who’s into homoerotic wrestling fiction online is also part of the fan base of homoerotic wrestling videos. I wasn’t conscious of it, but I was assuming that the gay wrestling video tent entirely contained within it the gay wrestling fiction audience. Homoerotic wrestling videos came before wrestling writing for me, so I’ve been under the assumption that everyone who I interact with around homoerotic wrestling fiction has also come by the same path. Assumption checked.
Mr. Joshua shows Darius that he’s got the right tool for the job
That anyone with a love for homoerotic wrestling in any genre or format should just not recognize the name BG East, however, seems like a missed opportunity for some hot pounding wrestling delights. I’m fully transparent in admitting often that my own fiction is frequently drawn from the best and most inspiring of what turns me on in the videos I watch. I certainly seem to recognize many of the same angles, perspectives, body types and holds in gay wrestling graphics/visual art that are, at least, “in keeping” with some of the gorgeous wrestling that good folks like BG East produce so well.

Brooklyn Bodywrecker taunts us with Mr. Joshua’s naked ass

So anyone who happens to read this post, perhaps surfing through following a search link for wrestling fiction or some particular celebrity wrestling fetish that you and I share, if you’re gay and hot for wrestling and haven’t extensively explored the world of BG East, go there now. If the names Kid Leopard, Kid Vicious, Jonny Firestorm, Brad Rochelle, Alexi Adamov and Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!!!) don’t ring a bell, and if anything that rings my bell rings your bell, then you should avail yourself of some awesome wrestlers and action. And if you and I exchange emails and you report being completely unaware of BG East, or Can-Am, or Thunder’s Arena, or Rock Hard Wrestling, then don’t be surprised if, after I get over being gobsmacked, I immediately tell you to walk, not run, to any and all of these find purveyors of fine wrestling kink.

Jose and his jackhammer pound hunky Greg Leary into the mat

As far as I’m concerned, real friends don’t let friends remain unaware of hot, homoerotic wrestling action!


Have you noticed how in Hollywood movies it’s a moral imperative to believe in the supernatural? I keep hearing the words, “I don’t believe in coincidences” in movies and on television lately. The implication seems to always be that there’s some divine hand moving the universe, lining up otherwise random events into non-coincidental patterns. Well, frankly, I do believe in coincidences. That army of monkeys will, indeed, one day hammer out the complete works of Shakespeare by sheer chance. I’m okay with that.  That’s not to suggest, however, that I don’t like musing on a notable coincidence when it falls in my lap.
Kid Leopard planting a Tree of Woe for Sean Cannon
in BG East’s Superbouts 2
Take, for instance, the third time in as many days that the “tree of woe” has come up in three entirely unrelated conversations I’ve been part of.  Three different homoerotic wrestling fans raised the topic of how hot the tree of woe scenario is. The only reason I really know much about it, as such, is from a series of comments on Rants, Roids & Rasslin’ a while back, in which folks were dissecting a panel from one of RR&R’s wrestling comics. “Tree of woe” is apparently the moniker for that precarious situation when a wrestler discovers himself hanging upside down from the corner turnbuckle, completely vulnerable to a humiliating and devastating attack.
BG East’s Brooklyn Bodywrecker exploiting an opponent’s vulnerability.
It seems to me that there’s more than just a little element of bondage, with the poor catcher’s ankles locked and laced underneath the supports tying the turnbuckle to the ring post. A knee to the gut, a boot to the face… the options appear to be endless. Yes, and hot…
Rock Hard Wrestling’s Lucas Payne lives up to his name in Austin Cooper’s
Tree of Woe

The position also offers an opportunity to see a hot muscle boy stretched out and in jeopardy. Hot strong bodies are the best subjects with which to construct a tree of woe, it seems to me. The mechanics probably work best with a strong, compact, relatively limber body. The aesthetics also work best that way, too, I think.

Cole Cassidy goes to work on Kevin Lee in BG’s Bad Boys

Accomplished master in the fine arts of sadistic ring punishment, Cole Cassidy made the most of bewildered Kevin Lee trapped in his tree of woe.

Cole uses those gorgeous muscles to crush Kevin’s head and midsection.

A bearhug and headscissors combination on Kevin illustrates some of the more creative opportunities that a tree of woe offers to an innovative heel.

Cole leans in real good, adding every ounce of leverage to crush Kevin’s balls.

Of course, any tree of woe that fails to include crotch torture is a waste. Cole is never, ever one to waste anything. A long, slow elbow driven crushing into Kevin’s balls softens him up.

Cole claws Kevin’s crotch and enjoys watching the agony.
Cole latching on a ball claw, with his freakishly fantastic forearms bulging like a cartoon superhero is incredibly erotic.
Cole’s boots and knees tenderize his suspended opponent.

And of course some nasty stomps to Kevin’s… well, to Kevin’s everything, shows why a tree of woe is a blank canvas in the hands of a true artist, at least when Cole is working his magic.

BG East’s Dante Rosetti (I think) uses his head.

I’m on the record many times over as completely partial to ring wrestling, and the tree of woe illustrates just one of the many reasons why ring wrestling cranks my kink harder than just about any other context. The opportunities to use the architecture, to capitalize on the structure, to exploit the parts of the ring that stretch as well as those that don’t, all contribute to making ring wrestling my wrestling kink of choice.

At long, long last, Rio Garza pays it back against Jobe Zander in
Can-Am’s Rio’s Revenge

So I completely believe that three different people raising the topic of the tree of woe in as many days is 100% coincidence. I’m sure it’s randomness, and I don’t feel the need to read into the coincidence some guiding, invisible hand that wants me to appreciate deeper the erotic potential of corner abuse. That doesn’t mean, however, that I don’t enjoy riding the tide and getting a kinked kick out of where it takes me.

Rock Hard Wrestling’s Trent Novak treats Austin Cooper to a Tree of Woe beatdown

The Crowd Who Seem to Favor This Sort of Wrestling

“And welcome once again to BG Wrestling at Campus in beautiful Cambridge, Massachusetts in the heart of brain country, I guess you would say, halfway between Harvard and MIT.” Announcer and color commentator Bob Wood fills in all the juicy details over the PA system that set the stage for “Live at Campus.” He lets us know who the heels are and why their babyface opponents are motivated to try to conquer them. This classic club footage from a BG East catalog release from 1990 is pro wrestling entertainment that makes impressive use of a dance floor, a mat, and some slack ropes. Five matches comprise this DVD, with some classic, classic athleticism from the likes of Matt Carlton, Tiger Chuck Collins, Kid Leopard, Scott Rogers (before he turned Dark), and the Brooklyn Bodywrecker.

Regular readers here know that I have a running fantasy of live action homoerotic wrestling. I know of no live action homoerotic wrestling venues within several thousand miles of me, so watching classic club wrestling in front of a curious, sometimes enthusiastic crowd of gay guys in Live at Campus revives that lust to watch up close and personal wrestling action.

The crowd that night is a mix of curious gawkers, guys chatting each other up without much interest in the wrestling, and a smattering of hardcore wrestling fans who start showing up later in the card. In the Fallen Angel v Tiger Chuck Collins match, the fans slowly warm up to their role in this scenario. One angry fan, fed up with Collins’ seeming inability to defend himself against his masked opponent, throws trash ontop of Collins while the the tiger-striped-one is getting the crap beat out of him at the start of round 3.

When Kid Leopard and Scott Rogers face off for a title match in the second half of the card, the crowd around the makeshift ring has grown thicker, rowdier, and more attentive. A hot, bearded hunk with big pecs and a sleeveless t-shirt shows up ringside just as the action starts. Like a growing number of the fans gathering ringside, he’s got a look about him that makes me think he’s got to be one of us who enjoys his wrestling kink. He pumps his fist, flexing an impressively thick bicep, and shouts in celebration when KL is introduced as the hometown boy with a bad attitude.

The hot boy with the beard fades into the crowd partway through KL’s successful title defense, but from the moment that the final match is announced, the battle for the “Bruiser Weight Championship Belt,” he’s back and furiously stakes out his claim to a front row, unobstructed view of the action.  This action consists of Maine native Terry Mercen, in white trunks and boots and a white satin jacket (Bob Wood gives Terry’s hardworking, straight-up babyface credentials), facing down an astonishingly young, ripped, gorgeous Brooklyn Bodywrecker in red trunks and black boots. BBW is sporting his perennial “fuck ’em up” attitude that he dishes out with relish to his opponent, the announcer, the fans… pretty much anyone and everyone.

Before the match has technically started, BBW ambushes Terry from behind when the Maine grizzly tries to take his white satin jacket off. When BBW starts to choke Terry with it, some heel fans initially cheer, but things quickly quiet down as BBW’s mauling of the man in white is visually simply stunning.  After an astonishingly relentless battering of his caught-off-guard opponent, BBW hops to his feet, sets his snarling sights on none other than the hot, bearded hunk in the front row, and points his finger at him. It looks like an aggressive move, but there’s no way to really tell what BBW is saying to the hunk in the crowd. A match dedication, perhaps? A promise to deal with those hot pecs next? Whatever BBW says, the pec boy seems to cheer that much more enthusiastically with every cruel stomp, kick, and slam that BBW delivers. A step-over toe hold looks like it’s about to snap poor Terry’s knee in two, to the rising “ooo’s” and “aaah’s” of the appreciative crowd. A double knee drop to Terry’s hamstrings clearly titillates more than one spectator. “I like that! Give him another one!” an excited voice rises an octave above the crowd.

The boy in the white sleeveless t-shirt, the one with the big pecs and bulging biceps, gets more and more animated as the match progresses. When Terry launches an impressive rally that has BBW reeling in fall 2, the hot stud in the front row gives the ref an earful, complaining about some clearly fictitious rule infraction that the fan believes Terry used to gain the upper hand. But when BBW bounces back from that unexpected 2nd fall pin to grab hold of this match with both hands in fall 3, his #1 fan is literally roaring. Actually roaring, yes. He gives BBW a “thumbs-up” of encouragement to start round 3. When BBW battles back to control the match momentum, pec boy pumps his fists and flexes those meaty biceps encouragingly. Every slam, every kick has the hunk outside the ring cheering and pumping his fists harder.  When BBW bodyslams Terry onto the wooden bar tables at ringside, all the heel fans rejoice. His over-the-knee backbreaker on Terry has the muscled hunk in the front row pumping his fists again with a big, toothy smile stretching ear to ear. When BBW cranks out a humiliating final fall submission from Terry, his #1 fan celebrates furiously, reaching over the barrier to slap BBW’s hand in congratulations. When BBW, as is his way, goes back and muscles out a post-victory piledriver on a completely helpless Terry, muscleboy at ringside is laughing and applauding feverishly.

“The bodywrecker has developed quite a little following here this evening,” announcer Bob Wood can’t help but note. “And now he accepts the BG Bruiser Weight Championship belt… holds it high… and accepts the cheers of those in the crowd who seem to favor this sort of wrestling.”

Live action homoerotic wrestling has got to be the sexiest venue possible. When there’s chemistry like the chemistry BBW clearly has with his muscleboy fan in the front row, my arousal skyrockets. The adrenaline rush of the crowd egging on the combatants, the call-and-response between wrestlers and their fully engaged boosters, it all makes the story extend outside of the literal ring. There’s an extra pump from proxy champions fighting it out, carrying the standard, standing for the virility and savvy and will to dominate of everyone on “their side.” Like the hot, bearded boy with the meaty pecs, I’m certainly part of that crowd that “seems to favor this sort of wrestling!”

Six Degrees of Separation

I like to think of myself as versatile. For example, I’m deeply aroused by grunting, sweaty carnal aggression building to domination and humiliation (particularly in the wresting ring). At the same time, it’s also absolutely true that passionate tenderness exchanged between two men is also a fantastic turn-on for me. A deep, lingering, all-in kiss does, not infrequently, put me over the top.
BBW v Liam Ryan – BG East’s Squared Circle 3: The Contest
In the spirit of the old children’s game “telephone,” or more contemporarily, “six degrees from Kevin Bacon,” I’ve been having a great deal of fun tracing the tag of homoerotic wrestling kisses. For example, let’s randomly start with this pic of the Brooklyn Bodywrecker mounting little Liam Ryan (the ring rope caught between their crotches makes me swoon). Liam looks understandably entranced with the naked muscle stud heel pausing from his path of destruction to, dare I say lovingly, plant a passionate kiss on him.
Liam Ryan v Iain Scott – BG East’s Britbouts 2
Those same lips of little Liam also enjoyed tasting Scottish hunk Iain Scott, who looks almost chummy in this stolen moment of tenderness, belying the brutal discipline he has in store for his twink opponent.
Iain Scott v Sean Patrick – BG East’s Sexy Showdown 3
It was also hunky Iain’s lips that hungrily paused in his crotch-staining treatment of Sean Patrick to apply a passionate liplock. 
Sean Patrick v Dick the Prick – BG East’s X-Fights 22
Of course, it was Sean Patrick who was known notoriously as “the Kisser,” with his understandably incapacitating go-to maneuver of sucking face, like he did with Dick the Prick, seemingly sucking the fight right out of his opponent, at least momentarily.
Dick the Prick v Jeff Jordan – BG East’s Wrestle Shack 1
Dick the Prick, in turn, enjoyed more than one passionate oral exchange, such as this stunningly gorgeous embrace post-match with the beautiful Jeff Jordan.
Jeff Jordan v Luis Camacho – BG East’s Matmen 15
I find it no surprise at all that Jeff Jordan’s opponents often couldn’t help themselves, with Jeff’s prone, fit, muscle body underneath them and his devastatingly handsome face looking up at them, but to tenderly cradle his head and pull his lips to theirs. Luis Camacho apparently never wrestled, much less paused mid-wrestling to kiss the Brooklyn Bodywrecker, but Luis kissed Jeff Jordan, who kissed Dick the Prick, who kissed Sean Patrick, who kissed Iain Scott, who kissed Liam Ryan, who did, indeed, enjoy kissing the Brooklyn Bodywrecker. Damn, I’d like to get in on that daisy chain…

Delightful Conundrum

BG East’s Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you) remains a conundrum to me. On the one hand, he’s a heartless tease. His wrestling career is all about his mammoth package (at least as far as I’m concerned, that’s what it’s about), but despite being all about genitals, we’ve only barely glimpsed his bare essentials unleashed. His gear, his balls-in-face victory poses, his frequent mid-match hand down his trunks to rearrange the goods… he’s practically screaming, “Marvel at my gargantuan balls!” And yet he coyly, demurely (well, sort of) seems to have a non-nudity clause in his contract. This should make me hate him with a bitter resentment I reserve for few.
On the other hand, when I think of the line dividing straight-up wrestling from homoerotic fare, I can’t imagine thinking of Mr. Joshua as anything but flag-firmly-planted well on the homoerotic side. I’m the first (though I’m sure not the last) to point out that my opinions here may reveal me to be inconsistent, fickle, and potentially even hypocritical. None of those things really bother me so much. But on the topic of grab-ass in homoerotic wrestling, which I’ve been musing about lately, for all Mr. Joshua’s carefully covered assets, he frequently takes matters firmly in hand.
Perhaps not so frequently is the literal grab-ass in a Mr. Joshua bash, but particularly in his more recent appearances, someone’s balls are almost always getting grabbed. When Mr Joshua shoves his own mitt down the front of his trunks, honestly, I cheer (outloud… really). His fascination with his own balls is delightful to watch. It’s as if he just can’t keep from grabbing and tugging at himself (and honestly, haven’t we all been there?). But what connects the dots for me is that Mr. Joshua clearly has an irresistible need to grab hold precisely at the moment that he’s laid an opponent out commandingly. Something has shifted in his trunks simultaneous with his moment of humiliating domination over the punk who had the temerity to step into the ring/on the mat with the power and guile of Mr. Joshua. Even if he doesn’t whip it out and pop off on camera, he at least sells the story that he’s aroused by the act of hammering a barely clothed man down and climbing on top.
I’ve been particularly pleased with the development of his story to include the fact that his opponents can’t help but notice Mr. Joshua’s package and his own fascination with it. They frequently mock him with a crotch-to-face pin (which is an obligatory element in any Mr. Joshua victory), and shove their hand down their own trunks. Nearly no one has the package to compete with Mr. Joshua, though, so even on the bottom, his massive balls somehow manage to come out on top.
Early in his career, the focus on Mr. Joshua’s package was more implied. It was context in which the wrestling took place, as far as I can tell. But lately, both Mr. Joshua and his opponent’s have been taking matters more directly in hand. One of the sweetest Mr. Joshua matches, I think, was the summer’s release of the man himself going up against a much smaller Austin Raines. Mr. Joshua grabs hold of Austin’s throat and balls early and hard, and he gets it back in spades. Austin’s choke and throttle on Mr. Joshua comes in a very close second place to the “teabagging” moment as my very favorite moment in this match.

Perhaps Mr. Joshua’s career left turn can be dated to his utter humiliation in the right hand of Brooklyn Bodywrecker in Mr. Joshua’s own Wrestler Spotlight DVD. It was this match that made me finally tear my eyes away from his package to admire the hard, powerful ass on Mr. Joshua. It was also the match that came closest to consummating the love affair that Mr. Joshua’s crotch has been nursing with the camera, including Mr. Joshua stripped naked and tossed over BBW’s shoulder. As I’ve complained bitterly about prior, though, don’t get your hopes up here. You’ll get a tasty, lingering look at Mr. Joshua’s bare and vulnerable cheeks, but BBW taunts us by refusing to show us the real moneymaker.

The hits and, more delightfully, the squeezes just keep coming in match after match. Giving

…and taking, the main character in any Mr. Joshua match has got be acknowledged to be the crotch, and sooner or later it’s Mr. Joshua’s crotch that steals the spotlight, crowding everyone else off the stage.

So, while it’s true he unfortunately does not qualify to compete in my pornboy division, as a non-pornboy Mr. Joshua’s wrestling is still all about sex and the wonders that a hard, hot body like his can’t help but bring to mind. On a purely abstract level, I completely respect his decision to just barely/not quite keep his modesty in tact. Much more viscerally, though, I remain locked in a love/hate conundrum when I think about Mr. Joshua… and I frequently do.

He’s come such a long way since he debuted against the emerging legend of chisel-chinned Brad Rochelle as a musclehead with perhaps more brawn than brains underneath his frosted locks. A legend in his own right, as far as I’m concerned, looking back at Mr. Joshua’s debut makes me marvel. Who could predict what hot, productive homoerotic wrestling careers would be represented on the mat that day?

With wisdom born of experience and, I’d argue, an even hotter body today, Mr. Joshua makes me often possessed with the desire to trade places with any single opponent who’s had the privilege of experiencing a Mr. Joshua beatdown. Though, if I found myself in the enviable position of just a handful of those opponents (with Mr. Joshua’s balls resting on my lips), I almost certainly would be unable to honor his contract rider.

Classic Tales

The double bicep pose: a prerequisite for homoerotic domination hotness. Deconstructing (as is my way), the double bicep is an interesting statement. The explicit point, of course, is to call attention to the size of a man’s biceps. Sweet muscleboy Gary Myers, for example, sported stunning, double-peaked biceps bigger around than his neck. There’s a simple, primal aesthetic to the double bicep. When a hard hunk has the guns and proportions, there’s an amazing, powerful symmetry that’s simply beautiful. These are muscles that have been crafted and carved with insane amounts of sweat and tears and self-worship. A classic double bicep can simply say: stand back and be awed.
Making a run to strip Rusty Stevens of the title of my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy, Mitch Colby frequently illustrates that a double bicep can communicate much more than just aesthetics. Not that Mitch’s body shouldn’t be under glass, but with his cock planted across his opponent’s chin and his knees pinning his opponent’s arms to the ground, Mitch lifts his arms and crunches out a double bicep to make a statement: I’m your superior. Mitch’s softballs attached high on his upper arm drive home the point of his scrap with his young challengers. His gorgeously tanned, fantastically toned muscles will, without fail, put a lesser man on his back. The gloating look on Mitch’s face in this pic is priceless. You’re owned, kid, he’s saying. And these are the muscles that broke you and made you mine.

Unlike the victory double bi, the buddy double bi seems like it’s frequently the last moment of dignity for a couple of hardbody faces heading into a world of hurt. Freakishly stunning Tyrell Tomsen and his short-lived partnership with Jimmy Gee is a recent case in point. We don’t have to even know who their opponents are to take a look at this pre-match pose and predict that these boys are going to be humiliated. The double bis telegraph the approaching story line. Massive mountain of muscle, Tyrell, is demigod anchor to this tag team. Jimmy, who’s a bit softer and sporting decidedly less impressive guns than in prior outings, is destined to be the weakest link. The double biceps are ostensibly the display of power and confidence here, but the whole text tells a different story, including vulnerability and an inevitable date with humiliated destruction.
I’ve been enjoying the forced flex in more and more recent products out of BGE. Lon Dumont, who must be worshiped in more matches to come, made an over-the-top homoerotic masterpiece with his psychic humiliation of Eddy Rey, forcing the bigger man to flex on-command in submission. Brooklyn Bodywrecker had the same tool in his arsenal of destruction, when he broke cocky hardbody Mr. Joshua Goodman to pieces. The double bicep here is no longer about victory or confidence, but about humiliated defeat. Joshua stepped into the ring banking on his muscles to power down on BBW (the silly, silly fool), so in victory, BBW forces a decimated Joshua to flex. Behind the nearly unconscious loser (and I mean that lovingly, Mr. Joshua), BBW crunches out his own double bi, illustrating that despite not having quite as smooth, ripped, or classically pretty a muscle body, he has exactly what it takes to hammer down on a muscleboy, strip him naked, and heartlessly taunt us by refusing to let us see Mr. Joshua’s owned goods.

Ultimately, the double bicep is always a complicated story of strength and vulnerability. It’s a primal display of power to intimidate would-be challengers. At the same time, the class double bicep pose stretches out and exposes the rest of the muscled body. This isn’t a defensive position by any means. As repeated maneuvers in the homoerotic ring illustrate, a strutting double bicep leaves a cocky stud vulnerable to a strike to the crotch, a surprise full nelson from behind, or an attack on the exposed core. So in the end, the musclegod who pulls off the double bicep tells a fantastically woven tale of power and vulnerability, beauty and savagery, the promise of victory and the haunting foreshadowing of potentially being owned and displayed like a tantalizing piece of meat.

Value Added

Facial hair is all about taste. Some have the taste for it. Others don’t. In the abstract, it doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with wrestling, per se. It’s like gear. It’s usually secondary to what draws us to watch the action.
Still, I’m a fan of some facial hair. I’m not talking about the exquisitely trimmed pencil drawings on some faces. Joshua Goodman’s “soul patch,” for example, just looks like he needs to wipe his lower lip. It’s not that that the tiny little triangle of hair under his lip somehow makes him anything less than a stunningly muscled hunk worthy of abject worship. I just don’t think it adds anything to the masterpiece that is Mr. Joshua’s gorgeous form.

Same goes for Cole Cassidy. The patch underneath his chin just looks a little odd to me. I’d lick every inch of him until I passed out, mind you, particularly after he locked me up tight in a crippling figure-four leg lock. But his facial hair isn’t so much of an asset to the treasure that is Cole’s body, skill, or charisma.

Still, it’s not as if I think facial hair is categorically negligible. It can significantly enhance the story in a match. Young whipcord, Brigham Bell, was deceptively babyfaced when clean shaven. Blond and pretty, Brigham could frequently tell the story of the underestimated skinny kid who then opens a major can of whoop-ass on his unsuspecting opponents.
I actually liked his goatee later in his BGE appearances. He looked more vicious and needing to be reckoned with. After being the underestimated babyface over and over, a darker, more threatening persona is nice character development.
BGE icon, Brooklyn Bodywrecker, early on sported a fantastic 80’s stash. It’s fantastic not because I think it was particularly attractive, but it was so entirely apropos of a burly, bearish Brooklyn thug bent on erotic domination.
I’m an even bigger fan, though, of BBW’s goatee. It does just as much to tell me the story of his sadistic, kinktastic persona as does his leather harness and chaps.

And frankly, between you and me, his greying goatee stokes me even more. A huge, muscled, savage, egomaniacal sadistic heel daddy decimating and claiming his baby-bottom-smooth opponent (yes, Mr. Joshua, we’re looking at your ass) is hot stuff.

Overly coiffed adds nothing for me. A heel with a goatee is definite value added.