A Fan Favorite

Yesterday I celebrated Brook Stetson, co-owner of my homoerotic wrestler of the month title. Today, at the risk of repeating myself, I turn to Brook’s partner in crime, the other co-owner of my homoerotic wrestler of the month title, Mitch Colby.

Mitch was a running feature obsession in this blog almost from the beginning. When he debuted for BG East in Alexi Adamov’s Wrestler Spotlight tape, I was instantly a fanatic. Drop dead gorgeous, strong as an ox, and glistening with sweat, there’s nothing that I don’t like about Mitch’s physique. But it was always something more, something unexpected that Mitch brought to the table that has made me never be able to take my eyes off of him when he wrestles.

It’s his maturity, by which I do not mean some asinine euphemism for his age. True, he showed up on the scene a decade or two later than some of the youngest bucks that vie for our attention in the homoerotic wrestling world, but frankly that’s neither here nor there for me. Mitch possesses a chilled calmness, an unflappability, a stone cold centeredness that reflects a mature soul. I mean, let’s face it, it’s hard to out-pretty Alexi Adamov. But Mitch is every ounce as gorgeous, as far as I’m concerned, and he’s a good bit sexier because he seems to understand exactly who he is at every moment, no matter what the trash talk and mind games his opponents toss his way. The way Mitch puts Alexi in his place and leaves him flat on his back in the gazebo is all sorts of pleasing.

I won’t try to give a comprehensive blow by blow of Mitch’s career because, let’s face it, that’s been an ongoing labor of love throughout the nearly two years of this blog. Rather, let me note the highlights that taught me something new about the big, beautiful Mitch. For example, after a hard, sweaty gazebo battle with pretty boy Alexi, things turned down right nasty for him when he climbed into the wrestling ring against one of BG East’s resident bad boys, ripped stud Cole Cassidy, in Ringwars 15. Sadly, this is Mitch’s only appearance to-date in the ring. Perhaps the seriously vicious beating he took at Cole’s expert hands (and particularly the torture Mitch’s pecs took in Cole’s claws) left Mitch with PTSD for ring action. Mitch works some nice offense in on the little powerhouse, but when it comes to decimating and displaying a big, hard hunk, there’s arguably no one better than Cole. Happily, Mitch proves that he can suffer and take a beating like that hard, ripped body of his would imply.

Mitch’s first motel match was notable for me, particularly, because he squared off with Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!) in Motel Madness 7. Yes, the reigning top contender for my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy went toe-to-toe with the reigning top contender for my favorite homoerotic wrestler – nonpornboy division. Mitch’s physique is simply perfect in this match, and I don’t blame him a bit for allowing Mr. J to maneuver him into position to shove that massively packed crotch of his into Mitch’s face.

My next stop on Mitch’s memory lane is another motel match, in which Mitch showed what he would do if BG East dangled a little bit of fluff in his face, by which I mean twink delight, Jeremy Burk, in Motel Madness 8. This is classic big v little wrestling, and I’m on the record repeatedly as partial to that scenario. What makes this match hit my list of must mentions about Mitch are two things, really. 1) This is a fantastically erotic match that’s expertly paced. Some squashes are downright boring, but there’s nothing at all boring about Mitch’s systematic pummeling of Jeremy. It gets hotter, more painful, more humiliating, and sexier with every passing moment. And 2) this was my first peek at Mitch naked. After crushing Jeremy, Mitch takes his little piece of fluff to the bathroom where they peel out of their gear and explore one another’s bodies in and out of the shower. My fetishistic lust to scrub Mitch down from head to toe with a thick, slick coat of lathered soap probably belongs on a different fetish blog, but suffice it to say, I’m bitterly envious of Jeremy.

Back to the Florida sunroom, and my next notable highlight of Mitch in action is his sweat-fest with Skrapper in Catchweight 3. Seems that Mitch has a taste for the lightweights, and despite putting up some serious offense, Skrapper was always destined to be schoolboy pinned with Mitch’s sweaty crotch shoved in his face. What stands out from this match, however, is the post-match pool play. Mitch fireman-carries his twink out of the sunroom (with Skrapper slyly copping a feel of Mitch’s glutes along the way… I tell you, that Skrapper impresses me!), and then tosses the spent punk into the pool. One last bearhug in the middle of the pool turns from a device for inflicting pain into a passionate embrace, as they make out enthusiastically. Many, many more homoerotic wrestling matches should end this way.

The same Florida sunroom is the setting for a true epiphany in Mitch’s resume. He takes matters firmly in hand against Derek da Silva in Crotch Crushers 1, tapping into his sadist side to beat, pound, claw and, indeed, crush Derek’s testicles. In addition to being the first time I saw Mitch really grab hold of his opponent’s manhood, it’s also memorable because it was right around this release that Derek stole the title as my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy from Mitch for a brief time. The contrast of short, pale and hairy muscleboy v tall, tanned, and smooth muscleboy is aesthetically stunning.

It was the release of Mitch’s Wrestler Spotlight tape that helped Mitch rip his inaugural title belt away from Derek and slap the hairy Italian into second place. Most specifically, it was Mitch’s matroom sweat fest with Patrick Donovan that turned my affections decisively back to Mitch. This match is profoundly arousing from start to finish, but it’s the bearhug competition right in the middle that makes my heart pump hardest. Patrick and Mitch are in the same league when it comes to almost everything… height, weight, good looks, fit physiques, wrestling skill, and maturity. So it’s that much more climactic when Mitch once and for all puts the veteran down, climbs on top, and locks lips with the loser.

A few months after Mitch regained his title as my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy, he lost it in stunningly fast fashion against the wickedly nasty stylings of Rusty Stevens. From the realm of Naked Kombat and Can-Am, Rusty managed to grab my attention and hold on with both hands. Mitch slid into the top contender spot behind Rusty’s razor sharp trash talking and primal determination to dominate his opponents. So when BG East, just a few months later, released the Breaking Point: Sexiest, in which Rusty and Mitch have it out in the Florida sunroom, I was in awe. This was my fantasy come to life. I mean, most homoerotic wrestling is in one way or another my fantasies played out for me, but this was quite specifically and particularly my fantasy of pornboy v pornboy wrestling. While Mitch came out on top (at the same moment Rusty was cumming from the underneath), I had to say decisively that it was Rusty who aroused me most in this match, primarily on what is undeniably his #1 strength: his witty trash talk and delight in dishing out humiliation. It was a battle for the ages, but Mitch was relegated to stick it out in second place in my rankings.

And then last month, BG East released Mitch’s most recent match for Sunshine Shooters 4, which earned him the homoerotic wrestler of the month co-title. Mitch is also currently in possession of the top contender spot for my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy yet again, chomping at Trent Diesel’s gorgeous ass to take the title for the third time. Regardless, however, Mitch will always be a favorite, and wherever he is at any particular moment in the rankings of my favorites, I will always be a Mitch fanatic.

Kiss It Some More

Ace Hanson v Antonio – Thunder’s Arena’s No Holds Barred 5

If there’s one image that put Ace Hanson over the top in winning my homoerotic wrestler of the month title, it’s got to be the image of him flexing his huge bicep in Antonio’s face in No Holds Barred 5. Sweat streams down Ace’s forehead, drops falling from his brow. His freckled back is browned from the Florida sun. He presses the peak of his stunning bicep against Antonio’s nose humiliatingly, surely the scent of Ace’s sweaty body filling Antonio’s nostrils. “Kiss it,” Ace demands. And Antonio kisses it. Good God, that turns me on.

Mitch Colby v Jeremy Burk – BG East’s Motel Madness 8
I just don’t really watch much straight-up wrestling these days, but I have to imagine that this is not a common plot development. One man’s lips planted on the body of another is inherently homoerotic. I suppose even straight-up pro wrestling might dabble in a humiliating bicep kiss as an act of subjugation, sort of a bully’s prank, chuckling at the “degradation” he’s wrought on his loser opponent. Some of you who follow straight-up fare can tell me if this does, indeed, pop up from time to time. Regardless of whether straight-up wrestlers work a forced bicep kiss into their repertoire, I still say there’s something essentially, unmistakably homoerotic about one man’s lips on any part of another man’s body. Mitch Colby, with his massive hand holding Jeremy Burk’s head like a grapefruit, pressed the twink’s mouth against his beautiful bicep in Motel Madness 8. That kiss, along with Mitch shoving Jeremy’s face into his crotch and scissoring the twink’s head while Jeremy copped a completely understandable feel of Mitch’s pecs, decisively turned this motel pick-up match unavoidably down the path that would lead them to end up soaping each other up, tongues down each other’s throats, soon afterward.
Kid Vicious v Lobolito – BG East’s Wet & Wild 4
Reigning BG East sadist-extraordinaire, Kid Vicious, may not have the biggest biceps, but they’re nonetheless beautiful and more importantly, devastating. Every KV wrestling match is a morality tale in mastery. And the moral of the story? Don’t fuck with KV, or more truthfully, get ready to be fucked over by KV. Skill, cunning, and the complete determination to sexually dominate will overcome all challengers, particularly fresh faced newbies who think that because KV isn’t a a massive musclebound stud, he can’t be all that dangerous. The Wet & Wild 4 taming of Lobolito captures the image perfectly. Lobolito’s right hand is stretched, seemingly lovingly, across KV’s lower back, his tongue obediently lapping at KV’s rock hard bicep (KV is looking particularly toned in this bout). It it weren’t for the look of abject anguish on Lobolito’s face, the sneering domination written across KV’s face, and the leather studded belt wrapped around Lobolito’s neck, the better for KV to completely exercise his vicious control.

Kid Vicious v Kieron Knight – BG East’s Bootboy Brawl 5

I haven’t seen them all, but I’m assuming every KV match includes his opponent’s lips pressed against his body. And why not? If you’re as accomplished at the homoerotic arts of physical domination as KV, why wouldn’t you insist that every conquest include some carnal worship? Babyfaced Kieron Knight from Bootboy Brawl 5 is clearly an awed protege of the vicious one, as quick off the dime to kiss his bicep as he is to do his darnedest to show the master the best he’s got. To know when to be tender and to know when to be tough is surely the sign of a zen-homoerotic-wrestling master.

Rusty Stevens v Mitch Colby – BG East’s The Breaking Point: Sexiest [by far]
And just to cover my bases on the topic, I also want to mention that I’m a big, big fan of the self-worshiping homoerotic wrestling hunk. Any self-worship has it’s delights, but particularly the self-worship of a stunningly muscled, accomplished and always dangerous wrestler like Rusty Stevens, pushes the same buttons for me as the forced bicep kiss from an opponent (well, the buttons are at least kink-adjacent). It’s cliche, I know, and yet I’m always a sucker for a hunk with baseball biceps lifting his arm to his face and planting a lingering, adoring, lustful kiss on his own bicep. Any beautiful physique can pull this off satisfyingly for me, but particularly a physique that I’ve seen dominate hunk after hunk, inflicting precisely measures quantities of pain and humiliation, putting every aesthetically perfect muscle to no better possible use than to one overmatched stud after another. The bicep kiss is just giving credit where credit is due – showing some love to what got you there, and to what it is that will bring home victory after sexually dominating victory.

Never Had a Chance

The Canadian women’s hockey team has been criticized for beating their first round opponents 18 – 0. It’s not in the spirit of the Olympics, so the story goes, to humiliate your opponents. Just beat them. What is it that goes into deciding to score those 5 goals in the 3rd period? It’s simply not about winning anymore. It’s about statement. Frankly, it’s not really about making a statement to your opponent, really. It’s about making a statement to potential opponents who might be considering taking you on. Show no mercy in utterly humiliating your outclassed opponent and tell the world you’ll fuck up anyone else who dares to go toe to toe with you, too.

A recent conversation at Ringside at Skull Island made me think some more about the wrestling squash match. Some folks just aren’t into the squash. Seeing one man completely outclass his opponent on the way to devastating humiliation doesn’t turn everyone crank.
Most often, though, it turns mine. For me, it isn’t that there’s no competitive spirit in a squash. The competition just isn’t all happening in the ring. The humiliating squash is the message sent to the arrogant punks sizing you up back in the locker room later on. When Billyboy took a jab at Brad Rochelle’s balls, Brad completely demolished the doe-eyed hunk. Brad tortured the punk far past the point of necessity as a message to the next piece of shit that might think it was worth a stab to use Brad’s testicles like a speed bag. The testosterone laced kink is the sneering challenge to the hot shot who thinks they’re ready to take you on next. Just try me, and you’ll see me unleash the merciless destruction on your ass that I’m unleashing on this piece of shit.
It’s a fascinating, titillating sight to see an eager/dumbass young hopeful climb into the ring when the rest of us know that he’s got no chance. It doesn’t have to be a mystery to be hot in my book. When Jeff Phoenix showed up without his partner for his tag team match against Jose and Cruze, the hardbody hunk was all mouth. He boasted he could beat both heels by himself. You knew and I knew that Jeff was in for complete destruction. Jose knew it. Cruze knew it. Hell, for all his bluster, Jeff knew it. The heels took their time in systematically double teaming Jeff’s muscle ass like artists, illustrating that it’s not the science of the knowing that always matters, just like it isn’t strictly the competition that tells the story in the ring. Sometimes, it’s the artful execution and merciless thrill that makes it worth it.
The demolition as art can be a beautiful thing that revs my engine. Kid Leopard’s skills have always been awe inspiring. It’s not like we can’t tell when he steps into the ring with another eager/dumbass musclehead destined for humiliation. We watch because we want to see just how he’ll go about it this time. In what way will he twist and torture the stud? What gravity defying position will he force the unsuspecting blowhard into, and how long will he toy with his victim before forcing him to finally scream in submission? How will he make us gasp and his victim cry?
Kid Vicious is the same sort of battler. The smile on his face as he crushes Joe Driver’s hhhhhuge package under his boot makes me a little lightheaded. KV sells his sadism with such mastery. His inevitable dismantling of the fresh meat dangled in front of his face is never seriously in doubt. It’s his style, his savagery, and the systematic ownership of his opponents that keeps me coming back for more. Like several voices at the BG East listserv, I’m all for a long overdue KV spotlight. I just vote to throw him at least a couple bright-eyed, hardbodied rookies who actually think that they have a chance when they step in the ring. Their shock will be my happy ending.
Finally, Mitch’s motel match against Jeremy Burk comes to mind as one more squash done right, in my book. The reigning champion for my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy title, Mitch is relentless. Jeremy is his plaything from the moment he steps into the room. Mitch overpowers him and completely owns him just about every step of the way. And I turn every page eagerly, not because the climax is somehow in doubt, not because the “what” of the plot keeps me guessing, but because the how is so delightful to see unfold. Spank that punk’s ass with his own shoe, Mitch! Suspend him upside down with his head squeezed between your knees. Do those push ups on top of him, grinding your crotch into his face over and over again. I knew you could do it. I just wanted to watch. It may not be the spirit of competition, but it gets me off.