I mentioned recently that my cue of wrestling matches to watch is extremely long, but I am throwing myself enthusiastically into sucking down each and every one of them. Some of them, mind you, slow the project up because I keep pushing pause, rewind, replay. Over at Movimus, that’s my problem with every camera angle that I see that includes 6’2″, 200 pound, 25 year old Kevin Harris.
Jimmy Reilly tries to make muscle hunk Kevin Harris a little less pretty. He doesn’t succeed.
I haven’t seen the first time they met, but when I came across the rematch between Kevin and “Shaggy” Jimmy Reilly recently, I was hypnotized by Kevin’s phenomenal thighs and incredibly hot ass. His very brief navy blue speedo is fit so snugly it looks like it’s painted on. When he stretches pre-match, and especially when he flexes those meaty quads during the scrap, it’s breathtaking!
Hot hunk Jimmy is repeatedly swarmed by Kevin’s commanding offense and massive muscles.
I mean, literally breathtaking. I’ve written before how much Shaggy here turns me on, but completing the scene with him panicked and pained, trying to decide if Kevin’s scissors will do permanent internal damage (or fucking cut him right in half!) drips with pathos.
Get used to this, Shaggy.
When Kevin snaps those knees around Shaggy’s head, pinning the boy to his back and burying his entire face deep between the smothering, thick cuts of meat that are his upper thighs, I’m reduced to tears. This fratboy monster should surely be able to retire early if he just charges what it would be worth for homoerotic wrestling fans to take that ride! He leans forward, resting the weight of his upper body, his forehead pressing painfully into Shaggy’s hot core as his trapped prey grunts desperately, struggling with the humiliation and pain. Especially the humiliation.
Kevin reads my mind. Jimmy makes me intensely jealous.
Then as if reading my mind, Kevin slips open his knees just enough to slide Jimmy’s head higher up between his thighs, locking his ankles together as he rolls to the side and forces Shaggy to take a long, hard, close-up view at the epic ass. When Shaggy squirms, the panic starting to rise, Kevin seals the deal for me by taunting him. “Where you going big boy? Where you going?”
“Where you going, big boy?”
Joe has reviewed this match already, so consult his fine words for a more timely assessment of the anatomy, anatomies and allures of this Movimus rematch. Now that I’m binge watching through my wrestling cue, though, I just wanted to say that if you weren’t convinced by my colleague’s encouragement to check out the trailer for this match, I’m piling on to say that Kevin Harris’ supremely confident attitude, his outmuscling of Shaggy, his juicy taunts, and most of all those outrageously sexy thighs and glutes deserve your consideration. Now let’s get this sexy brute into a wrestling ring with a pro who can teach him lessons he’s sure he doesn’t need to learn!
Completing what appears to be my trilogy of posts on my taste for mature beef, I have to slap down some enthusiasm for getting to enjoy homoerotic wrestling match starring long-time favorite wrestler around these parts, Mitch Colby.
Former Favorite Homoerotic Wrestler and Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month and constant infatuation of mine: Mitch Colby.
Joe has already done the heavy lifting in introducing you to the Catchweight 6 match featuring magnificently muscled Mitch swatting down irritatingly cocky Billy Lodi. I’ll just paint in around the edges a little where my long-standing Mitch-lust demands that I send up a little worship. First, there’s the little tidbit that Mitch tends bar where his wrestling fans seek him out. Why am I cursed to live in the wrong geographical location to appropriately stalk the homoerotic wrestling icons that command so much of my lustful attention!? The fact that Billy tracked him down to challenge the bare chested beauty behind the bar to a wrestling match (victory to be accepted in lieu of the photo ID Billy seems to have lost when Mitch tries to card him) titillates me no end. The motif of stumbling across a homoerotic wrestling fantasyman “in real life” is a bit that I could enjoy a lot more of.
Billy tries to play it cool.
Billy gets in a dig about Mitch looking older in person than he does in his wresting matches. He refers to him as “Mitch the Bitch,” clearly needling the headliner hunk with the taunting moniker that Cage Thunder has been spreading everywhere. If Billy weren’t lapping up the drool dripping from his luscious lower lip as he stares at Mitch’s phenomenal physique, I’d say the kid was delusional. But clearly the punk is just trying to weasel his way under Mitch’s skin in order to get mat time with the muscle hunk. It works. Of course it works. This is a BG East prime time wrestling release. It doesn’t take long for this story to pick up after Mitch’s shift at the bar is over and Billy comes a knocking.
For starters…
There’s the catchweight quality to the story telling that speaks for itself. Guys particularly into bigger guys and smaller guys doing battle should line up to watch this on automatic repeat, because the contrasts between Billy and Mitch are visually stunning. Mitch is massive, thickly muscled, bronzed, ripped off of a fitness magazine cover. Billy is lean, pale, certainly fit but with little visible muscle tone, looking like one of the obnoxious kids at the skateboard park that I so despise. It takes about 15 seconds before the homoerotic wrestling subtext becomes just the text. Billy sinks his fingers deep in Mitch’s mountainous pecs, and the bartender does the same to Billy’s sweet little ass (which Mitch can’t help but notice has less mass than Mitch’s pecs). Mitch commandingly steals a kiss. Billy is clearly put off his guard with the stunning hunk sucking his face. Mitch makes him pay, however, transitioning to a gasping, squirming, helpless bearhug and hoists the kid way up off the floor and sucks the air from his lungs. First hold of the match: Billy concedes with his face buried in Mitch’s chest. Oh hell, yes.
Hurts so good
Billy’s fans will not be surprised that he is more than ready and able to take cheap shots at Mitch’s balls to having a fighting chance against the ripped muscle stud. Frankly, I think Mitch isn’t so surprised either. Nor does he work all that hard to stay out of danger’s way. I think Mitch very well may nurse a little fetish for getting his balls bashed, because every time Billy does it, the look on Mitch’s face is a cross somewhere between horror and orgasm. And he keeps fighting back harder, locking lips that much more furiously on the ballsy lightweight.
Stoked harder and hotter, Mitch strikes back with everything.
Because Mitch is a classy dude, he refrains from clawing the living fuck out of Billy’s balls… until Billy goes for his first low blow. Unleash Mitch, 70 pounds heavier and without feeling compelled to fight fair?! Oh, fuck, yes.
There’s the hold that I, and Mitch, enjoy so, so much!
I think I’d like to wallpaper my bedroom with all of the stills of Mitch crushing all of his opponents’ skulls between his massive, flexed, gorgeous thighs. It wouldn’t be a Mitch match without it, nor would it be everything I’ve come to expect and be entranced by if Mitch didn’t look like he could easily whip out his cock and explode all over Billy’s head because this hold turns him on so hard. And I don’t think I’m just projecting.
“Is this why you came here?”
Billy is outmuscled and out classed from start to finish, but the running question between the two battlers is why did Mitch concede to this match? Why did he invite him over? And why was Billy, doomed from the start, so eager to hustle his way inside Mitch’s abode? It’s not really much of a mystery at any point, really, but when Mitch hoists the punk over one massive, bulging shoulder and strolls into the bedroom smacking his chops, whatever tension there was with Billy at the bar, resenting being carded, calling Mitch “old,” referring to him as “Mitch the Bitch,” it’s all released, like me, as the boys turn the corner and turn down the sheets.
Brutality and tenderness in perfect measure.
What gets me, after I clean myself up a little, is that this is now the second young stud to work Mitch into a lather by taunting him with the nickname Cage Thunder has given him, “Bitch Colby.” Read Cage’s blog and you’ll see reference after reference disparaging Mitch for beating up little guys, but the thing is these little guys are taking their cues, begging for a session with the muscle hunk, using Cage Thunder’s insults. When, oh when is the raging homoerotic wrestling tension between Mitch and Cage Thunder going to come to a head?! And who do I need to blow to get to see that golden moment live!?
I’d heard rumors and even seen photos of classic wrestlers from early years of BG East history promising to make their returns to the ring sometime soon. I did not, however, know to expect to see classic hunk Shane McCall climb back into the ring as a major league bear daddy beating the living shit out of too-big-for-his-britches babyface darling Ty Alexander. The climactic 3rd match in BG East’s new Catchweight 6 collection is as epic as it sounds!
Ty bristles with every insult the consummate veteran slaps down.
First of all, this is not your daddy’s Shane McCall! Of course, the stud is handsome as ever, and if I daresay, the salt-and-pepper full-on facial hair does nothing but turn me on several times harder. The epic reveal here however is not that Shane has facial hair. No, the big news is that the 5’11”, 165 pound babyface muscle stud of years gone by is now every ounce of a 210 pound burly, bear daddy bruiser! I think many fans may miss the fact that adorable Ty is looking fitter than ever, because he’s simply dwarfed in stature and ring presence by his opponent. But Shane steps into the ring like he’s never left it, takes possession of the territory, sizing up 5’7″, 145 pound Ty, and pretty much having already finished crushing the rookie punk in everything but deed within seconds.
Catchweight crushes
I’ve had several conversations (though surprisingly less than I’d have thought) with wrestling fans of all stripes about the role and allure of a big, burly, bellied bad ass like the second coming of Shane McCall. There are enthusiastic and fully engaged homoerotic wrestling fans who don’t have a place in their wrestling fantasies for anyone other than a 6% bodyfat, six-packed and primped underwear model, and I respect the hell out of that. Each of us has our pantheon of wrestling fantasies starring the particular bodies and personalities and gear and settings that milk us hardest. I’m one of the wrestling fans for whom a hefty, hairy, sweat soaked belly can raise my temperature sharply, particularly when paired like a fine wine with a tasty little morsel like bubble-butted beauty Ty.
Ty tied in knots
To say that the second coming of Shane manhandles the bronzed beauty Ty is a gross understatement. And although I continue to nurse a little infatuation with the doe-eyed rookie, let me be adamantly clear: he deserves every ounce of terrorizing punishment he gets in this match. Shane tosses and crushes him, twists him up and rips him apart. The 65 or so pound weight differential between the two of them makes for some of the most stunning displays of physical domination that I’ve enjoyed, and regular readers know that I’ve enjoyed A LOT! Shane makes the kid scream. He makes him weep. He drags Ty’s lovely carcass from brutally ripping him apart joint by joint to crushing the fight and consciousness from him and making Ty go limp and defenseless in his paradigmatic bearhug. And I repeat, Ty deserves every excruciating hold, every agonizing second, every scathing helping of contempt and humiliation, and I’ll be happy to tell it to his face. Why? Because Ty Alexander had no idea who Shane McCall was when he climbed into the ring.
Ty’s going to remember who Shane McCall is now.
What. The. Fuck!? Fashionista Ty was clearly begging for this lesson about the big, broad, brutal shoulders he stands on as a newcomer to the world of homoerotic wrestling today. His contemptuous dismissal of Shane’s age, weight, and beard only serve to establish Shane’s pedagogy as he demonstrates for lovely Ty exactly how looking prettiest is just not the endgame at BG East. Before all is said and done, Ty gets smothered by that bear daddy belly, brutalized by the vast superiority Shane has in experience and methods of muscle torture, and (what seems to irk Ty most) repeatedly given whisker burn by Shane’s full beard.
“Ty Alexander pinned like a little bitch.”
Shane doesn’t just push the same old buttons in me he always did years ago. He punches them relentlessly. And although not the svelte hottie he once was, his masterful ringwork in Catchweight 6 demonstrates that he’s lost none of his athleticism and, more importantly for my tastes, he is, if anything, more diabolically sadistic in tearing apart cupie-doll Ty than ever before. He’s a big helping of bear daddy meat, and using every dominating ounce to punish lightweight Ty is deeply moving to watch. There are big, hard, sweaty lessons that an all-too-pretty boy like Ty has got to learn sooner or later if he’s going to stick around BG East, and happily for all of us, The Boss pulled a staple of so many of our fantasies out of retirement to “coach” young Ty in everything he has yet to learn.
Welcome back, Shane! So happy to get a front row seat to watch you work that thrilling magic of yours! Can we recommend some other relative newcomers who need a session with Coach?!
We’re well into the month, so it’s about time I settled down and made the tough call as to who should be the new homoerotic wrestler of the month around here. For those of you just tuning in, I pick the wrestler who, appearing in a homoerotic wrestling match over the prior month, turned me on most. As always, this could go in many directions this time around, but based on recurring roles in my sweat soaked erotic dreams, there’s one particular hunk who worked me hardest and stayed with me longest. The new reigning HWOTM is…
In Muscle Domination Wrestling’s September Release “Gladiator,” Thrasher makes his sophomore appearance with the company and, as far as I know, in the world of homoerotic wrestling. Similar to his debut role as the stern disciplinarian bear daddy in Daddy’s Home, Thrasher’s role as Marcus the Gladiator is that of a hyper masculine, scorching hot, fiercely dangerous muscle fighter. Unlike in Daddy’s Home, however, in Gladiator Marcus is chattel to the upper class elite who buy and sell him. His reputation in the arena is as unconquerable champion, but when a rich boy purchases him and gets his hands all over that hot body, Marcus’ bitter, barely contained contempt pulses off of the screen.
I’ve already reviewed Gladiator, so I’ll try not to retrace my steps, but I will say that this scenario captures in a novel way the power and beauty of erotic seduction wedding intimately with muscle combat. Hunky Matt plays the raging warrior boiling just beneath the surface in a delightfully engaging way. As he permits his more diminutive title holder to dominate him, push him around, feel him up and down and up again, the champion of the arena bristles and flexes, but submits his hotly muscled body to his owner’s whims. The subtext is clearly that hardbodied Matt could pummel the aristocratic youngster into dust, but he knows his place, he knows the consequences of open disobedience, and he permits the hungry young blue blood to quite literally walk all over him.
But here’s where the drama gets really interesting, because the rich boy who possesses his papers and fondles every inch of luscious Matt Thrasher intentionally provokes and prods the muscled gladiator. He lords over the beast of burden with relish, but he weaves an intoxicating spell of physical domination, erotic manipulation, and a good old fashion mind fuck that makes the massively muscled gladiator vacillate between preening cockily and stewing furiously, spilling over with blood lust but then just spilling over with astonished, pure lust.
The young/old, big/bigger, blue collar/aristocrat contrasts are played as skillfully as masked Morgan pumps Matt’s organ to a sweat soaked, climactic crescendo. Matt sells his genuine surprise at being manhandled by the little rich boy, and that big, juicy cock sells even more convincingly just how aroused this muscle domination session is for him. With that salt-and-pepper beard and big, juicy pecs, I get a strong whiff of Joe Manganiello, and regular readers of this blog and my wrestling fiction know just how mind-blowing that comparison is for me. Whatever you think of the likeness, I argue that big Matt has a look and a persona that make him one of the most unique and, for my money, engaging athletes in the homoerotic wrestling scene today.
Masked Morgan casts his spell so subtly, so seductively, that hardbodied Matt doesn’t quite realize the point at which he crosses the line from indulging his audacious new master to being truly and completely owned, body and soul, by the erotic master who works him into a pliant mountain of glistening muscle stroking his rod like a marathon runner. Honestly, the jack off scene lasts for ages, not because Matt is having any trouble whatsoever keeping it up, not because there are awkward editing cuts and camera angles, but just because Matt Thrasher is quite obviously a thoroughbred, aged to perfection, with a phenomenal endurance to milk every groaning ounce of ecstasy from being molded like clay in the hands of an erotic master. Spread eagled there in the middle of the ring, Morgan cranking on those nipples, grinding his crotch into Matt’s back from behind, whispering sweet words of total domination in his ear, Matt cums.
And as Morgan flexes in victory from behind, the look of shocked pleasure that washes across Matt’s handsome face is priceless. “You are definitely my master,” the champion of the arena gasps, stating what is obvious for everyone to see. He’s been tamed and turned and there’s no turning back now. Kudos to Morgan for more than ably selling this story on his end, but it’s the conquered gladiator, the handsome alpha male erotically convinced to fall into line, the beauty and muscles of Matt Thrasher become consumed by the master that haunts my fantasies now. Nice work, Matt. Hope to see much, much more of you!
I’ve been trying to coordinate schedules with Jayden Mayne for nearly a year now in order to get some time with this young stud for an interview. He’s got leading man good looks, a ripped young body, and a dangerousness about him that made me take notice of him from the very beginning. We finally pulled it together for what I hope will be just the first of many interviews as this ambitious giant-killer advances further in his wrestling career. As you’ll see, Jayden’s got plans.
Jayden Mayne – 5’8″, 147 pounds
Bard: I’m so excited to get the chance to talk with you, Jayden. I have documented proof that I’ve been a big fan of yours from the first time I laid eyes on you in Ringwars 19. What experience did you have when you first showed up wrestling at BG East?
Jayden: I didn’t have very much experience before I started with BGE, other than wrestling my kid brother and friends grown up. I learned a lot from watching TV. It was something I’ve always wanted to do. I feel like a superstar when I step into the ring.
6’1″, 195 lb Trent Blayze can’t quite believe how far handsome lightweight Jayden pushes him in Ringwars 19.
Bard: You look like a superstar, too, stud! That face, that body, that attitude… you grabbed my attention instantly. Speaking of attitude and being a superstar, what’s it like from the inside being that ripped young stud climbing through the ropes to do battle? Who are you channeling and how would describe the persona you take with you into the ring?
Jayden: I would describe my character as a professional wrestler as being ready anytime to take on whoever dares to step into the ring with me, no matter how big he may be. I think people underestimate the smaller guys in this line of work. I’ve always been portrayed as the “underdog,” but I’ll tell you, I always put up a hell of a fight.
Bard: Damn straight, you do! I love that edginess that you have when you wrestle. I’m stunned that you didn’t have much prior experience because I always read you as seriously dangerous, even going against much bigger guys.
Jayden loves the feel of a flipping big man across the ring!
Jayden: I live for that challenge! There is nothing better than flipping a 220+ pound beast over my head and seeing the look on their face as they fly overhead. I like taking on bigger opponents because I like that challenge. I’m working hard right now to get my weight up and hope to be around 160 pounds in my next bout. Then maybe me and Joe Robbins can meet again, except I’ll be doing the bulldozing!!!
Big Joe Robbins is a giant Jayden couldn’t conquer… yet!
Bard: I’m a little breathless right now just hearing you call out 240 pound Joe Robbins for a rematch. Save me a front seat for that show! I’ve got a major soft spot for a smaller guy who puts major hurt on the big boys. Therefore, clearly, it should come as no surprise that I love watching your matches. So you’ve wrestled in the ring, the BG East gazebo, the backyard. Where do you feel you wrestle best?
Jayden: I feel like the ring best suits my fighting style. I like to throw some punches, as you saw in Gloved Gladiators. The ring allows me to do that and use my quickness and agility to my advantage.
Bard: Another thing I feel like I pick up from your ring persona is that you’re likely to say shit like it really is. So I’m just going to throw this out there and see where it goes: who’s the most annoying opponent you’ve faced so far?
Attila Dynasty was quite a dick.
Jayden: Attila. He talked a big game but seemed like he couldn’t handle the heat when I put the beat to him with the gloves. So he had to resort to a low blow to gain the edge on me.
Bard: See, that’s what I mean! I just knew you’d wouldn’t be one of these wrestlers who tries to avoid saying the honest shit about opponents. And I love that you mention that match with Attila. You owned that acrobatic son of a bitch when it was a boxing match. I thought you were going to knock him out before the gloves came off, despite knowing full well that this is BG East wrestling we’re talking about. But then holy crap, he exploits the low blows and rides you relentlessly. What a dick. And I mean that both literally and figuratively. Is there anybody you’ve met at BG East who you’d call out for being all talk?
Jayden executes the upset of the century on the “unstoppable” Jake Jenkins in Gazebo Grapplers 13.
Bard: Hell yes you did! I did not see that coming either. And knowing now that you had very little wrestling background makes that match that much more astonishing, since Jake is constantly billing himself as the total package, high school state wrestling champ, MMA fighter, fitness model, etc. etc.. The look of shock on his face getting owned by you is priceless! Who have you met at BG East who seems like someone you could hang out with, go drinking with and enjoy?
Jayden: I would like to party with Jonny Firestorm. He’s been in the game a while and seems “real” to me. I’d definitely toss a few cold ones down with Jonny.
Bard: Solid choice, I think. Jonny seems like he has a lot of friends who speak highly of him. My mind keeps going back to your Catchweight match against gargantuan Joe Robbins. When you’re walking into a match so overwhelmingly the underdog, when you know you’re very likely to take a major league beating, what keeps you focused? What do you do to face down the odds and the fear?
Jayden just gets stronger and lasts longer when he gets bulldozed by the big boys.
Jayden: I have taken a few beatings, yes, but each one makes me stronger and last longer. I was not raised as a “pansy” or a quitter. It makes me train even harder. Soon, I will be a force to reckon with! Mark my words!!
Bard: My money is on you! What does it mean to you to be a wrestler, to be someone fans rally around and want to see more of?
Jayden: Wrestling keeps me in shape and allows me to experience something that people all over the globe only dream about! I’m very fortunate to have as many fans as I do. I’m hoping to expand in the next year, and maybe offer some private matches or specialty videos. Is there anything Jayden Mayne fans would like to see? Ideas?
Bard: I’m always, at all times, full of ideas for seeing hot studs like you wrestling! I’ll start cataloging my Jayden Mayne fantasy match ideas for you now, and perhaps we’ll see some more inspiration from other fans who know you’re open to suggestions. You mentioned that wrestling keeps you in shape. I for one, love the shape you’re in. Is there a particular body part that you’re most proud of?
Total package.
Jayden: I’m not proud of any certain body part, because Jayden Mayne is the total package! Do any of my fans disagree?!
Bard: I’m going to go out on a limb and say, no, there are no Jayden Mayne fans who would dare quibble with the truth that you possess an incredibly hot look, head-to-toe, including lots of great parts right in the middle. I’m fascinated to see what you look like with an additional 10 to 15 pounds of muscle on you, once you reach that goal you mentioned. Is there anything else you’d like to tell (or ask) fans who look forward to more wrestling from you?
Jayden: I’d like to thank all of my fans, and I plan on coming back stronger than ever. Hopefully expanding my career, doing some work for some other companies or venues as opportunities arise. I’m always open to suggestions. In fact, I’m looking forward to hearing what the fans would like to see from me next!
Bodybuilder Darius learned the hard way not to underestimate the giant-killer Jayden Mayne.
Bard: Awesome attitude that will do nothing but earn you more fans, Jayden! And I’d just like to add that I’m just a little infatuated with your role as giant-killer, so I hope we see more of you shocking and awing the big boys who overlook an “underdog” like you. Just ask Darius or J.J. what’s at stake in not taking Jayden Mayne seriously enough! Keep us updated on what’s cooking in your world, and if you get some inspiration from fans about new career moves or custom matches, I hope you’ll feed all of our imaginations by letting us know about it. Thanks so much for taking the time to chat with me, Jayden. I’ve got nothing but respect and high hopes for where wrestling takes you next.
Open for suggestions, Jayden Mayne is just getting bigger, better, and hotter by the moment!
Joe has already given the stamp of approval in his review of Thunders Arena’s “Bathroom Battle,” which Joe perhaps more evocatively dubs “Psycho Shower Scene.” But I wanted to add an, “Amen, brother,” and tell you a few things that Joe didn’t mention, but grabbed my… attention.
This shower isn’t big enough for these 4 mouthwatering pecs!
The whole scenario starts out shaky for me, because as soon as Big Sexy tries to bully Z-Man out of the bathroom mid-shave, Z-Man turns into the cat that ate the canary. You, me, Joe, everyone has pointed out how that how shit-eating grin on Z-Man’s handsome face is both crotch warming and tends suck the air out of any suspension of disbelief a homoerotic wrestling scene requires. But there it is, irrepressible and adorable, but aggravating (me) as hell. Happily, Big Sexy merely turns up the heat and puts the beautiful Playgirl model in such jeopardy that there’s little time for any more grinning, just gasping and pleading and sputtering, trying not to drown.
Thank you, Big Sexy, for wiping that grin right off of Z-Man’s pretty face!
Have I ever disclosed around here that I was once president of my fraternity? It isn’t something that comes up in conversation often at this point in my life, but it’s true enough. Bathroom Battle, as contrived and “bizarro” as Joe rightly describes it to be, somehow manages to convey an ironic authenticity about it as I stroll down memory lane with each outlandish, over the top hijink these two get up to. I have cataloged in my mind, fondly, almost disturbingly similar scenes from my frat house days, as guys turned the bathroom (the chapter room, the hallways, the kitchen, whatever) into a pro-wrestling ring. And just like in my frat house days, the shit goes from clowning to oh-fuck-you-didn’t-just-do-that in the blink of an eye.
It’s all fun and games until…
The genre is executed well. I’m caught by surprise by how fully the boys manage to sell combat in what has to be one of the most work-unfriendly places to stage a rip and strip NHB wrestling match. Seriously, if you work for OSHA, DO NOT go to ThunderTV and watch this, because I’m afraid, despite your obvious wrestling fetish, you will feel compelled to report this shit for about 50 workplace safety violations. There are several points at which I’m holding my breath waiting to see one or both of these gorgeous hunks go down hard and break something internal as they impact the wet tiles of the bathroom floor. Kudos to both of these high class veterans, however. No one appears to have any lasting damage by the end… at least not any accidentally inflicted damage.
As Joe points out, do NOT try this at home! Unless it’s my home…
The intentional damage these two pillars of the franchise inflict is oddly satisfying and deeply erotic to my eyes. They both can’t seem to get enough of clawing the living hell out of each other’s balls. Z-Man even goes for a two-handed ball claw near the end, presumably because 1) it applies twice the pressure, and 2) what Big Sexy has stuffed down his trunks is more than one handful. They quickly and unsolicitedly (is that a word?) peel each other out of their skin tight square cuts, and Z-Man’s undergear in particular is incredibly tiny. I mean, that orange thong gets rolled up into what is essentially just a g-string in seconds and stays that way through most of the scene, giving Z-Man fans and ass fans some of the finest, wettest, most compromised looks at his lovely booty. You won’t see the full monty, even though this is a bathroom battle, but there’s plenty of bare ass and glimpses of cocks and balls as their paper thin speedos stretch and strain at the edges.
Big Sexy is sort of asking for it with that Grizzly Adams beard, isn’t he?
I like the innovation here, including Z-Man’s use of Big Sexy’s luxuriously bearded face to scrub the scum off of the shower glass. Big Sexy hoisting the smaller hunk off his feet and onto the bathroom counter to finish the shave Z-Man was in the middle of at the beginning of the scene similarly warms my cockles for the commitment to tell a story, connect some dots, be present.
Z-Man gets hoisted off his feet and whisker-burned across his gorgeous pecs, all on wet tile. This is a workplace safety nightmare!
This old school chicken wing looks like the early steps toward tantric sex to me. To hear Z-Man’s groans, it sounds like it, too!
The end of this match totally shocks me, and frankly, I’m not easily shocked. Z-Man does his best Dick Cheney impression on his opponent whose facial hair bears more than passing resemblance to that of an observant Muslim, and damn it all if I’m not slack jawed, offended, and wildly turned on all at the same time.
Too soon?
The water boarding is pure balls, as far as I’m concerned, and depending on your politics and proximity to military intelligence assets, you may either get way, way pissed off by how this all plays out, or like me, you may find enough time has passed to make water boarding available for eroticizing. Either way, I’m left feeling exhausted, de-hydrated, and in need of a long, hard shower. Who’s coming over to fight for the soap?
Two of the finest asses not even close to being fully covered in soaked, transparent undergear.
Oh, and there’s towel slapping. That probably sells the authentic frat house romp gone way too serious more than anything. Z-Man’s hot, juicy ass getting snapped with a wet towel. Oh, those were the days…
At this point in the battle, that shit-eating grin makes total sense.
Offline demands have left me with an incredibly long cue in my list of homoerotic wrestling matches to see next. I’m coming for for air today, so I’m also binging on some of the wrestling that has been calling my name for the past two weeks. First up, let me take some time to break down the mystery and sensuality of one of the new crop of releases directed and produced by “King Cameron” Matthews and made available directly through his website. Cameron calls this 30 minute juicy tidbit “Vampire Scene.”
Like a side of beef on display at the butcher’s.
The scene opens with a sound track homage to a classic B&W Nosferatu, the video in sepia tone, a mysterious view of a trap door revealed in a wooden floor. The camera descends the steps into the darkness to find Flash LaCash in tight black trunks, kneepads, boots, and nothing else but his hot porn stash. He’s chained to an overhead pipe, slowly waking from one nightmare into another. Enter Ethan “Count Dracula” Axel Andrews (that’s a lot of names!), looking so fucking hungry he could eat a… well, Flash LaCash! Ethan is always pale (he’s from Wisconsin, isn’t he?), but he looks like he’s been hiding under a rock for a couple of years, alabaster skin contrasting with his black trunks packed in that particular way that Ethan manages like few others. His face is darkly shadowed, making his well-known visage appear emaciated, haunting, and just that much hungrier. Flash appears not to know how he got here, what’s happening, who the FUCK this lean, shirtless stud emanating danger is. A quick punch to the gut from his captor, and Flash pretty quickly begins to get the picture.
This isn’t the vampire’s first dance. He drags Flash to a nearby coffin and shows what he’s already done to Flash’s friend. We glimpse a lifeless body in wrestling trunks inside the coffin. Ethan promises to give the same special treatment to Flash. The pornstash stud is getting seriously freaked out. When Ethan slams Flash’s handsome face into a corner post of the nearby wrestling ring, the shit starts to get real.
Flash is tanned and pumped, full of life, just ripe for pale, lean Ethan to suck him dry.
The bright lights come on the moment that Ethan tosses his prey into the ring. The scenario turns decidedly pro wrestling squash, but Ethan’s perennial “dangerousness” keeps the hot vampire narrative on the surface, along with periodic punctuations of blood sucking. He beats the fuck out of terrified Flash, chaining him helplessly into a corner, forcing his legs spreadeagled over the middle ropes, punching, clawing, ripping apart Flash’s meat from the bone. He lands a crippling kick to the hot stud’s vulnerable balls. And finally he swoops in to take his first taste of blood from the muscle hunk’s neck.
The vampire drama is wedded nicely to high quality wrestling.
Flash suffers so sweetly, I’ve been sent running to his back catalog to take a closer look at this hot commodity with such a provocative look. He wails and begs with an earnestness that sells the sexy jeopardy. “Who are you!?” the sputtering stud chokes pleadingly, trying to make sense of the subhuman drama enveloping him. “I”m the person that’s going to make a meal of you!” his tormentor taunts, doing nothing to disturb the thick veil of terrifying mystery that backdrops the full-on muscle bashing drama. Ethan leads the stunning stud around the ring by a collar, humiliating, playing with him like he’s making mountains out of the mashed potatoes on his plate. When Flash starts crawling for the ropes, dragging his hot carcass toward escape, his captor watches him a while, smirking, before swooping in and dragging him back into the pit of despair. Ethan literally gnaws on Flash’s hot, bulging bicep. Crippling leg locks, ball bashing, rope torture, endless chokes and trampling. Big, powerful Flash is whittled down, one shaving at a time, as Ethan beats the fight out of his muscles and sucks the blood from his veins with hardcore sadistic pleasure.
Ethan plays with his food.
When Ethan finally drags the muscle stud from the ring, it’s only to truss him up again hanging from a pipe, locking on the leather collar and chains again. “That’s right, struggle, struggle,” Ethan mutters. “It’s very much a turn on.” And with that, the credits roll and the subtext of every vampire story ever told climaxes. The vampire narrative is about sex, about domination, about the terror of being consumed by the physical and psychological dominance of a sexy as hell, completely in charge captor who knows how this story is going to end for you from the start. Hot wrestling kink married skillfully and conscientiously with a classic melodrama, served up just in time for the month of frights and horrors, tricks and hot, homoerotic wrestling treats.
BTW, my thanks to Cameron Matthews for giving me permission to post these photos and welcoming this review. Keep an eye on Cameron’s website for more self-produced homoerotic wrestling fare from the margins. He’s got an eye for telling a story and holding onto the erotic tension in a wrestling match with both hands!
Reigning Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month & overall Favorite Homoerotic Wrestler Kid Karisma.
When the stars align and my homoerotic wrestler of the month is also my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestling overall, it’s time to sit back and appreciate what makes a particular hunk so dominant in my affections. There are a lot of stunning attributes to Kid Karisma, many of which I don’t mention nearly enough. Those glacial blue eyes are riveting. There are not nearly enough hot, hunky gingers populating homoerotic wrestling, so again, Kid K fills a necessary role in what turns me on. And he suggested in my interview with him a while back that he’s actually particularly proud of his mammoth horseshoe triceps. But let’s face it, there will never be enough said, nor enough photographic studies done to exhaust the wonder that is his stunning ass. So, again I say, let’s face it…
Stunningly sexy and sweaty in a perfectly fit jock strap in Gear Wars 1.Skip Vance enthusiastically studies the front end as we get a breathtaking shot of that award winning backend, flexed and fantastic in Matmen 23.Functional strength is one of the lesser appreciated aspects of these incredibly built glutes, but Kid Karisma made full use of that power in his Spotlight match against Pete Sharp.He inaugurated the Forced to Flex series by doing exactly that to Brad Barnes, but check out the flex of those glutes as he hangs the sweaty bodybuilder out to dry in a bearhug.Another double pleasure shot, treating Blaine Janus to a close up inspection of his crotch while giving the rest of us another long, lingering look at that perfectly shaped derriere in Gazebo Grapplers 16.Perhaps those muscles are never so blindingly hot as when Kid K is writhing in a pool of his own sweat in the middle of the ring, which is exactly where massive mountain Dev Michaels left him in Kid K’s Wrestler Spotlight match.The Undagear 22 match that earned him this month’s HWOTM title, Kid K definitely bared it all in the end, but every step along the way was a feast for butt lovers. Ray Naylor not only got his hands on those two slices of heaven, he managed to momentarily turn that moneymaker into a couple of quivering, vulnerable mounds of exquisite beauty and power tamed… briefly.
Morgan Cruise is “looking for someone who can entertain both physically and erotically” in Muscle Domination Wrestling’s new release Gladiators. I instantly find myself irritated that the seductive tease of Damien Rush in a toga is window dressing. Handsome stud Damien isn’t a combatant in this wrestle-erotic melodrama, damn it. I forgive MDW, however, when I learn that masked Morgan’s co-star is none other than salt-and-pepper stud puppy Matt Thrasher who so captured my imagination in MDW’s last catalog release (and I mean RELEASE), Daddy’s Home.
Damien Rush has “treated and trained” his wares in precisely the physical and erotic arts that Morgan is looking for.
Mysterious Morgan is, in this ancient Roman period piece, in the market to buy a slave with skills both in physical combat and erotic pleasure. Holy shit, I was born in the wrong era. Damien’s brief role is as a purveyor of precisely the sort of man meat that Morgan is in the market to purchase. At least Damien swears he has “treated and trained” his slaves in precisely the science and arts that masked Morgan is looking for, namely deadly combat and erotic pleasure. Now that’s a training school I’d like to enroll in!
All hail the champion of the Colosseum, Marcus!
Enter “Marcus,” the barely clad gladiator who instantly catches Morgan’s eye. Jumpin’ Jupiter, Matt Thrasher is a fine, fine looking man! Morgan clearly agrees with me. “I saw what you did in the arena today,” Morgan says, licking his lips and examining Matt from head to toe. Slapping his meaty right pec, Morgan concludes, “I think this package might work.” Morgan commands “Marcus” to flex his mammoth biceps for him. Obediently, the arena gladiator obeys, more than a little pride in his face as he shows off for his appreciative new owner. “Nice,” masked Morgan mutters hungrily, palming the softball-sized biceps of his high quality property.
Morgan sizes up his new acquisition.
Morgan explains that he has purchased Marcus for the week to give as a present to the emperor, to float Morgan’s stock higher in the esteem and political machinations of the hardcore, conniving, flattering, favors-for-hire world of decadent modern day US ancient Rome. You can just about see Marcus’ ego swelling, but sneering Morgan has to break the news to him that “you weren’t all that expensive.” The gladiator’s inflated ego is bruised around the edges. His pride flinches defensively. He’s irritated, both at the news and it’s deliverer. Morgan’s sliding seductively underneath the skin of the hero of the Colosseum. Marcus refuses to accept either his low stock price or his subservient position to his new owner. “At the end of the day,” Morgan announces, hands on hips, “you’re going to have to remember that I’m the master, and you’re the slave.” They butt pecs, Marcus staring down from his height advantage into the eyes of his young deed holder. “I don’t think so,” the big stud mutters defiantly.
The gladiator has an ego proportionate to his bulging muscles.
Morgan commands the gladiator to strip out of his leather cock cover. Marcus refuses. Morgan doesn’t exactly appear displeased when he announces, “I’m going to have to show you you’re fucking place.” Erotically charged combat ensues, with the physically superior and arena-honed gladiator finding his hands more than full with the deceptively dangerous masked nobleman.
Now who’s the master!?
The pretense of Gladiator could turn some away. The backstory, the costumes, the slowly revealed backstory and subterfuges are considerably more involved than typical homoerotic wrestling fare. But I have to say that what could appear as pretentious completely sucks me in. I’m always provoked most by the homoerotic wrestling matches than have a context, that tell a story. That’s why I’m so often rattling my cage for a tournament, or a lovers’ tag team, or more through story tracking the adventures/misadventures of my favorite wrestlers across matches. MDW has been working harder than most to invest in the drama and take seriously the context, giving us a lot of options that move well beyond just having two barely clad hunks climb into a ring and wordlessly go at it. It takes imagination to suspend disbelief sufficiently to really immerse ourselves in the ritual of two hot studs battering each other in a wrestling ring. I’m happy and aroused to see MDW digging deeper into their own range and my imagination to construct a compelling, very hot scenario beyond just hottie Morgan Cruise and hottie Matt Thrasher throwing some wrestling moves together and then calling it a day.
Matt Thrasher is big and beautiful all over!
The drama in Gladiator appeals to me on many levels. I hold a special place for contrasts, such as Matt towering over his shorter opponent, of Morgan mysteriously masked in front of his raw, naked, handsome conquest. I particularly enjoy an age differential, particularly the way it’s stacked up in this scene with more mature musclestud Matt being physically bigger and more experienced than his upperclass tamer. There are hills and valleys in the plot that make the destination just a little mysterious, making Gladiator something far from a phoned-in, contextless homoerotic wrestling feature.
Master Morgan begins to take full possession.
Dastardly Morgan overcomes the gladiator’s superior strength with a full on ball claw that drops the warrior to the mat. Matt becomes more compliant once he’s been stripped, his thick, meaty cock already flying at half mast. The flag runs all the way up the pole within seconds of the master giving Matt’s cock the appreciative attention is so richly deserves. Morgan strokes and squeezes it. “Look at that,” Morgan coos, “looks like our gladiator is fucking pretty impressive!” That’s right, Matt crows proudly, refueling his mojo with Morgan’s obvious appreciation.
Vertical head scissors with a cock claw chaser. Even when he’s on the bottom, Morgan’s on top!
MDW walks a fine line in Gladiator between their strictly domination fare and the wrestling that I particularly enjoy. The psychological drama places this squarely in their muscle domination catalog, but there’s enough classic wrestling involved to keep me on board. A test of strength, an OTK backbreaker with a cock claw topper, pec punching, bearhug, ass slapping body scissors… the recipe is complex enough to appeal to my palate, even after Matt loses all pretense that he doesn’t want to be conquered and fucked by his sexy new owner.
Morgan starts playing Matt’s hotly muscled body like a maestro.
Morgan plays Matt’s body like a concert cellist, stroking and strumming and plucking the big, handsome hunk into a quivering mass of muscled submission. Working Matt’s nipples furiously from behind, forcing him to kiss his biceps, Morgan positions the bearded gladiator just right for us to watch Matt melt into nothing but a raging hard on getting stroked slowly, suspense rising harder and harder until the muscleman explodes, spread eagled in front of our eyes. “Yeah, oh, MASTER!” Matt groans adoringly even as he cums, his big pecs glistening with sweat. The look on the gladiator’s face says it all. It wasn’t the exchange of denarii or a signature on a deed of ownership that made big Matt the prized possession of Morgan. It was being physically and erotically conquered in the ring that binds him in obedience and gratitude to his handsome, hunky young master.
No one is unsatisfied with the new roles they now play.
August posted a surprisingly deep field of contenders for the HWOTM title. It was one of the months where my affections leaned different directions daily, based on what I was enjoying last. I honestly thought that the title was headed in one direction, but then, examining the depths of my soul and extent of my arousal, I had to confess to myself that I was simply defenseless against the next-level performance of one particular muscle stud who has long known exactly how to push every button I’ve got. My new and returning homoerotic wrestler of the month is…
Now I know there are a smattering of sight-impaired individuals who don’t have the good sense to be as completely infatuated with Kid K as I am. I won’t hold it against you. Kid K, however, might track you down, snap on a standing head scissors and pop your skull like a grape. Which would only cement my infatuation further, of course. It was his mat match with seasoned scrapper Ray Naylor in Undagear 22 that possessed my attention and adoration so completely again this month.
Ray looks like he’s about to get beat INTO the mat by that muscle raining down from above!
Ray is understated. In fact, I’d say it’s a weakness of his. He wrestles like a cornered badger, which is insanely sexy, but his personality is pretty muted in the world of bigger than life pro wrestling personas he swims among. Then again, there’s something balanced and complimentary about Ray’s understatedness in Undagear 22, because Kid Karisma is even more a larger than life character than usual. Ray’s reticence leaves room for Kid K’s bulging ego and thoroughbred trash talking to just keep swelling and filling up the mat room.
Kid Karisma sneaks a feel of the rock solid, lean cut stud daring to go one on one with him.
I’ll even give it to Ray (and this is pretty much the last of my comments for him, since this is Kid Karisma I’m crowning today), he makes Kid K work for it. He digs his fingertips into that award winning ass. He squeezes the fight momentarily out of the mass of muscle that is every inch of Kid K’s stunningly hot body. He makes him sweat, which makes all of those bulging muscles glisten, which makes me swoon. And there’s an unmistakable mutual admiration between these two sexy battlers, each one copping a gratuitous feel when the opportunity arises. I’d cop a feel of Ray’s biceps, too. He may have lost to Kid K on the mat and Dr. Cooper in the Friday Fashion poll, but I’d give a spare kidney for a bottle of baby oil, that lime green jockstrap he wore while crushing Drake Marcos, the BG East ring, and absolutely nothing else but smoking hot Ray.
Like Kid Karisma, I deep-down like what I see!
But he’s up against my reigning overall favorite homoerotic wrestler in Undagear 22, and Kid Karisma ignites the most exhausting fantasies I’ve got (and that’s saying a lot). If I’d give a kidney for a go at Ray, I’d give a cardiac ventricle or two for what’s left of my fleeting life at the point to feel Kid Karisma’s rugby honed thighs wrapped around me and playing me like a pump organ. This match continues the run of Kid K’s battles where it’s a little more like holding court than competing. This is Kid K’s mat, his match, his story to tell from start to finish. Even when Ray works very legit offense on the mighty man of muscle, it’s all about Kid K’s superhuman tolerances and Tom of Finland physique.
Kid Karisma grabs hold of a fistful of hair and plants Ray’s face where, let’s be honest, everyone wants to be!
There’s both a contempt and a lust shared between these two that’s intoxicating to watch. Kid Karisma crushes Ray’s face against his crotch. He flexes over him, shoving his mountainous muscles humiliatingly into Ray’s dazed mug. And then, demonstrating the effectiveness of the double-edged offense of the karismatic one, Ray can’t help himself but squeeze Kid K’s muscle packed thighs appreciatively. It’s not like he can mount a defense most of the time, so instead, he’s helpless to stop himself from stroking and squeezing that impeccable physique that I still say absolutely needs to be in contention for the Best Body of 2014 award in a few months.
Kid Karisma crushes the competition every which way at once!
This match is not a squash and it’s all heading in one direction from the start, all at the same time. That’s a fine balance to maintain, holding suspense, building anticipation, and yet remaining always and unshakably with Kid K at the throttle. He twists and ties the lean stud up, crushing and wrenching and squeezing about 5 things at once, leaving hard as nails Ray writhing and, finally, reluctantly, bitterly entirely spent. Kid K sucks the fight out of him and leaves Ray so wasted he can barely lift his hand to stroke the slab of granite Kid K calls his left quadricep. Oh, but he manages. Up until this point in the match, I’d say Kid K is in contention for the title of HWOTM, but perhaps hasn’t sewn it up quite yet. And then, as if reading my mind…
Kid Karisma seals the deal with the show stopper!
…Kid Karisma peels off his designer underwear and throws it in Ray’s face, strolling out the door with that world class work of art he calls his ass bare and beautiful and glistening with sweat. The camera, understandably, follows that bare physique, but I have to imagine Ray found the energy to pry himself up on one elbow and soak in the sight of this fantastically honed, entirely naked gladiator who just ran him down like a bug on the highway. And there’s just no competition left at that point. Kid Karisma manages the trifecta: 1) reminding us that his is the best ass on the planet, 2) making an extremely convincing bid for the title of Best Body for this year’s voting, and 3) making me completely forget about whoever it was that I was almost ready to crown HWOTM. Joining the extremely elite class of competitors who’ve managed to grab hold of the title on 3 different occasions, my reigning overall favorite homoerotic wrestler and now my homoerotic wrestler of the month and frontrunner for my vote for Best Body of the year, Kid Karisma.
Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month – August 2014 Kid Karisma
Sidelineland 