Throwback Thursday

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Never one to fail to jump on a bandwagon, my thoughts this Thursday are turned backward for a “Throwback Thursday” life review. As I approach the 5th anniversary (!!!?) of neverland, it strikes me often how time can be warped in my memory as I reflect on what I’ve posted here over the years. Some things I swear that I’ve harped on over and over, but when I do a systematic search, I discover I’ve perhaps mentioned just once in passing. Some things I think I’ve never, ever said, I discover (not infrequently pointed out by a reader) I’ve most definitely put into print.  So today is a trip down memory lane, digging like a geologist into the strata of the years to consider what March 20 has meant in the life of neverland.

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RHW came along less than a year after neverland.

My first March 20th post was 4 years ago today, and I was remarking on the still nascent offerings of Rock Hard Wrestling.  Specifically, I reviewed RHW’s double match release of Brody Hancock v Cameron Davis as a double-header along with Brody & Shawn Lawson double-teaming (does that make it a quadruple-header?) imminently deserving Zack Johnathan. Back than I was full of critique and advice, probably a little too heavy handed with the wisdom. Time has taught me a little more humility, I think. I hope. In any case, I still say Brody’s double-layered trunks (does that make it an octuple-header?) was a buzz kill and wrestling for gay eyes should use at least 1/3 less fabric in constructing ring gear than straight-up mainstream pro.  I haven’t posted on RHW in a while, after covering their releases pretty extensively years ago.  Not sure why.

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I could stare at Tyrell Tomsen’s ass for weeks at a time!

A year leader, in 2011 I was playing Name That Ass, a game that I probably found a lot more fun that readers did. Then again, some of you played along, and even Queer Me Now covered the genre.  And seriously now, what’s not to love about studying in exquisite detail finely crafted homoerotic wrestling asses?  The asses teased in that March 20th post were, in order, Tyrell Tomsen, multiple best butt award winner Kid Karisma, Mark Wolff, John Magnum, and Coupe. No one posted a perfect score in that round.  Perhaps I need to pull Name That Ass out of mothballs to give you more practice.

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The metamorphosed Charlie Panther.

March 20, 2012 was a Bodies-Over-Time focus on the stunningly evolving body of BG East’s Charlie Panther. I’d just seen his newest release at the time, absolutely defining a squash against Tim Messina in Pros in Private 9 and earning the homoerotic wrestler of the month title around these parts. Homoerotic wrestlers of the month have continued to be a theme since I started handing them out, and Charlie was a most excellent entry into the HWOTM hall of fame. At some point, I should do some soul searching about what subsequent HWOTM say about me and my evolving/stagnating tastes.

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These could easily become the most trusted, not to mention gargantuan biceps in news!

Interestingly, last year on this date, I didn’t post at all. This was in the middle of a several-week drought, which happens not too infrequently around these parts.  The nearest post was the day before, when I was resurrecting a theme that has possessed these pages since THE VERY BEGINNING, namely, Chris Cuomo and the need for more hotly muscled skin in the news. Specifically, I was extremely excited by the prospect of massively muscled Latino pretty boy Gio Benitez joining the reporting pool at GMA. GMA has yet to truly capitalize on the sheer magnetism of Gio’s mammoth pecs, but I still get a little giddy when I see him on air.  I’m quite certain you will continue to read more about my ongoing obsession with new hunks.

It’s an interesting core sampling of what has made neverland hold my attention over the years, looking back at this date in history. Some things change. Some things stay the same (including periods of radio silence as life distracts me from what’s really important, homoerotic wrestling). And, as always, I just follow my fanaticism for the homoeroticism of wrestling where it takes me.

Spring is In the Air

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Spring has arrived (then left, then came back again), bringing with it warm sunshine and hot studs wearing shorts. Honestly, it’s still too cold for shorts, but I’ll slap you silly if you tell that to the well-muscled men in my neighborhood who have been dying all winter to show off their marvelously meaty thighs. Now another 10 degrees warmer and I’m certain they’ll also go shirtless. In the meantime, I’m thanking the homoerotic wrestling gods for the fantasy-fueling glimpses of strong, thick, hunky legs.

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Spring means bare thighs!

In their honor, I lift him an extremely long-time obsession of mine, Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!). I’ve mentioned before that pretty much everything about Joshua is underrated due to the extremely attention-grabbing cantaloupes he smuggles in the pouch of his trunks. I’ve spilt gallons of virtual ink marveling at the package that has won the Best Bulge at BG East award 2 years running, but when I can manage to tear my eyes away from the hypnotically swaying ballast he’s packing, I’m captured by how gorgeous his legs are.

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Agonizingly pretty Rio.

Gorgeous is a word that has to appear a dozen or more times in a review of Mr. Joshua’s appearance in Hunkbash 15 because his opponent is possibly the most gorgeous creature on the planet, devastatingly lovely Rio Garza.  Typically I think of the adjective “pretty” to correlate highly with “breakable,” “vulnerable,” and “doomed” when it comes to homoerotic wrestling chatter, but Rio is both supremely pretty and possessing astonishing tenacity and endurance, because he’s had that award winning ass of his beat senseless so many times that no one could begrudge him if he were to never set foot in a wrestling ring again.

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Two great tastes that taste great together.

But Rio does, again and again, and once again he climbs into BG East’s ring with one of the most notorious narcissist heels in competition, Mr. Joshua. I’m enthralled with the contrasts as the two check each other out. Skin tone, proportion, features, weightiness… these two men are a bundle of contradictions appearing in the same ring together. I’m incredibly turned on by both, which makes it that much more astounding to me to recognize how different they are in personality and proficiency in the ring.

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Rio teases those of us aching for more of Mr. J’s gargantuan package.

And when Rio strikes early, spladling Mr. Joshua wide and showing off the prize that Joshua fans worship above all else (that mountainous package), I’m struck by the perspective of seeing Mr. J made so vulnerable by a notorious jobber like Rio. Joshua is perennially dangerous. Even when he loses, he dominates. Even when he’s humiliated, there’s a presence about him that holds the momentum like he holds my gaze. But when Rio rips apart his gargantuan thighs and rolls Mr. J up, asshole toward the ceiling and that legendary bulge bulging and quivering, the drama grabs  me hard.

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Mr. Joshua digs deep into a pile of quivering beauty.

Then, of course, Mr. J grabs Rio. Hard. Holy shit, in the long, long line of brutal beatings Rio has suffered, this is one of the sexiest. There’s no time to worry about whether Rio is going to sell it (a question I’ve raised in the past regarding his work), because Mr. J maintains such a commanding, persistent pace that Rio’s got nowhere to go but down, down, down.

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Rio is forced to flex, but Mr. Joshua pumps his quads just because he knows how fucking sexy they are.

And here’s where I circle back to the beginning of this post to say that in the bedazzling spectacle of gorgeousness, where my eyes just soak in helplessly one astonishingly sexy sight after another (Joshua’s bulge, Rio’s abs, Joshua’s bulge, Rio’s anguished face, Joshua’s bulge, Rio’s stunning ass, Joshua’s bulge, Rio’s obediently flexed bicep), I can’t help but let out a little gasp of appreciation for Mr. J’s cabled, thick, damn sexy quads. They aren’t in the leading role in this incredibly talented ensemble cast. Fuck, they wouldn’t even get nominated for a supporting role award. But they are essential and breathtaking nonetheless.

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So much to appreciate, including those awesomely tasty quads!

I once posted about my unrequited lust for precisely two wrestlers who tease and taunt the fans cruelly, dishing out insane quantities of sexiness but always falling just shy of showing off every gorgeous thing about them in a wrestling match: Rio Garza and Joshua Goodman. In Hunkbash 15, they continue their vicious ways, stripping down everything but everything and leaving me shedding a tear of unfulfilled anticipation for seeing either of them (just imagine the novel I’d have written here if they’d both done it!) getting stripped naked and brutalized, finally baring it all. But the bastards still have me wiggling on the hook, as I find still more to drive me crazy with lust.  Well played, you horrible, horrible (insanely sexy) hunks.

Oh, Canada!

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Kenny Brain can be my furry daddy/big brother any day.

I haven’t really paid attention to the Big Brother franchise in years, but seeing this slice of homoerotic fantasy gold plastered across the internet certainly caught my attention yesterday.  I can report only what I read online, because I didn’t even know there was such a thing as “Big Brother Canada,” and now that I do, I find out that I can’t watch it online from my “location.”  Bigots. However, if there’s more eye candy from furry gay male model Kenny  Brain in loosey whities and olive oil, I predict he’s got a big, big future ahead of him on a screen in front of me.

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If there’s a homoerotic wrestling god on Mt. Olympus, then somebody is already offering this slice of over-the-top sexiness a contract to seriously hit his stride as a homoerotic wrestler.

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And based on my 3-way interview with Drake “all-talk-no-show” Marcos and his patent holder, Mason Brooks, I’d say Kenny’s very first opponent should be Mason.  Mason mentioned that he has a tendency to get dazzled and distracted by a hot opponent’s “Canadian-ness,” and Kenny looks like he’s got gallons of Canadian-ness to shoot all over Mason’s sweet pecs.

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Hell, I’m smelling a potential Southern Invasion force storming BG East if gorgeous Kenny joins the ranks of other known/rumored Canadians that have made incursions across the border.  Keep your fingers crossed!

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I’ve heard second hand that Blaine Janus is a Canuck. He’s also a dead ringer for Kenny Brain’s fraternal twin. Now that would be a devastating tag team!
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Self-avowed Canadian Ben Monaco has dazzled more than a few opponents with his bulging Canadian-ness.
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Speaking of bulging Canadian-ness, Alain LeClair may be able to single handedly bring Boston to its knees, so imagine what he could do with back-up!

Proving His Case

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Aryx Quinn continues to perfect his fantasy physique. Exhibit A.

Aryx Quinn has been taking a beating in our Friday Fashion polls, and he’s none too happy about it. Actually, Aryx has stayed above it all, but he has noticed the attention, and he has wanted to point out that he’s been putting on mountains of succulent, hard earned, beautifully sculpted muscle since, for example, he wrestled Muscle Mask in Masked Mayhem 11. When judging the aesthetics of Aryx as a model for fantasy-inducing wrestling gear, he’d like to point out that he’s a whole new man, bringing a whole barrage of new firepower to please his fans and blow away the competition inside and outside the ring.  I’ve put in a request for him to share photos of his phenomenal physique as he approaches his first bodybuilding competition, which may happen as soon as this summer, so stay tuned. My thanks to Aryx for sharing these bits of convincing evidence that are featured in today’s post that demonstrate that he’s done nothing but continue to improve on the intoxicating mixture of beauty, power, and attitude that has earned him such a fanatical fan following!

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Exhibit B
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Exhibit C.
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Exhibit D.

Friday Fashion

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Trent Blayze wore it best.

 

The voting for last Friday’s Fashion poll blew me away! As I mentioned last week, I tend to never, ever bet against Aryx Quinn in a fan poll of any type. The stud has an incredibly deep and loyal fan base, and as soon as he sends out a notice to rally his troops on Twitter (as he did yesterday to try to pull this poll out of the fire) his minions typically crush the competition. But not this time!  By a vote of 126 to 121 (51% to 49%), Trent Blayze ripped those sexy-ass indigo trunks with silver flames off of Aryx and claimed the extremely hard fought title as “he who wore it best.” Is there a Trent Blayze fan club out there that I don’t know about?  Because I’d like to!  Just like I’d like to see the metaphorical fight for these trunks between Aryx and Trent turn into a literal, all in, rip-n-strip-in-reverse match between them. Lovely Aryx has been humbled two weeks in a row, so we’re going to put him on the bench this week to lick his wounds. And if he needs help with licking himself, I hope he’ll drop me a line.

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Now that’s the way to wear a pair of trunks!

 

This week’s Friday Fashion poll was another find from fashionista Dan, who noticed that not only did Donnie Drake and Shannon Embry wear matching gear when they teamed up in Tag Team Torture 8, but about 7 years later, perennial favorite of mine Lon Dumont donned the same gear in Tag Team Torture 17. I have to guess mammoth side of beef Brute Baynard might have also donned the same trunks when partnering with Lon if his gargantuan glutes and quads could have squeezed into them, but alas, this is a three-way Friday Fashion poll for you.  Aesthetically speaking, between Shannon, Donnie and Lon, who wore it best?

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The graphic suffering that Shannon Embry (left) and Donnie Drake (right) experienced in these architectural lime green and chartreuse trunks was astonishing. The day they battled it out in Tag Team Torture 8, they were brutally schooled and pounded into oblivion. But today, in in a head-to-head-to-head battle of fashion, did Shannon wear it best? Did Donnie?
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Or was it wrestler-turned-bodybuilder-turned-bodybuilder wrestler Lon Dumont who yet again crushed both Shannon and Donnie by not only squashing like proverbial bugs his opponents in Tag Team Torture 17, but also wearing the same gear the best?

 

Friday Fashion

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Rio Garza wore it best.

Out of 128 votes cast, Rio Garza pulled just over 45% of the ballots to slap down perennial poll powerhouse Aryx Quinn (37%) and luscious one-hit wonder Brian Bodine (18%). As a rule, I generally never count out Rio or Aryx when it comes to fan support, so this was a fascinating head-to-head, making me wonder whether Brian’s respectable 18% threw the balloting one direction or the other. We’ve seen Aryx crushing Rio, and we’ve seen Aryx crushing Brian. If there are homoerotic wrestling gods, I pray that they will throw the three of these hot hunk into the same arena with one pair of trunks to fight over between the three of them. Congratulations to Rio, who never fails to look stunningly gorgeous in absolutely anything!

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Aryx cannot be happy to lose to mouthwatering babyface perennial jobber Rio!

Today’s Friday Fashion poll was another tip to me from eagle-eyed fashionista Dan. Trent Blayze wore, appropriately enough, blazingly hot indigo trunks with silver flames when he ran headlong into the steamroller we know as big Joe Robbins in Pec Bash 2. Fast forward to catalog 101, and we find Aryx Quinn, yet again, daring to don the same gear and begging for a fashion comparison in his Masked Mayhem massacre over Muscle Mask. Handsome hunks. Hot bodies. Beautiful bulges. Awesome attitudes. Both have scored homoerotic wrestler of the month trophies here at neverland, but when it comes to that particular pair of trunks, who wore it best?

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Trent Blayze is devastatingly handsome, an incredibly sexy wrestler, and tough enough to make anyone thing twice about questioning his “flaming” choice of trunks. But did he wear it best?
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Aryx is back in the mix this week to try to redeem himself from last week’s fashion loss. He owns everything and everyone he comes into contact with in the ring, including those trunks. But in a head to head with Trent, did Aryx wear it best?

Consumer Report

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Coincidentally, not long after I received my custom video from Jonny Firestorm, a regular reader of neverland sent me a message to share how pleased he was with his experience booking a private match with Jonny. From his story (shared here with permission), I get the impression that the Jonny’s professionalism and the trust that he engendered were not unique to me.  Here’s a consumer report on a private match with Jonny Firestorm.

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“A weeks ago I had my first wrestling experience in a private match with none other than Jonny Firestorm. When I started planning this 2 months ago I never imagined how intense this experience would be. First I emailed Jonny about the idea for the match for his approval. Since this was kinda of a once in a lifetime opportunity I also asked him if another wrestler could join us too. With some convincing from his part, I was lucky enough to be initiated not only by Jonny but also by a fellow handsome BG East heel. The idea behind the match was that I was going to receive my first training “lesson”. What I got, of course, was a first-class -one hour and a half- rookie wrecking. I was put in all of the moves that you could ask for: camel clutches, bow and arrow, all kinds of headscissors and fig-4’s, over the knee and over the shoulder backbreakers, choke holds, corner abuse, double-teamed and even being forced to count myself out. My favorite moments? Being sleepered and pinned in all the variations of sleeper you could think of, particularly a crotch to face fig-4 executed by both Jonny and his heel friend. And of course there was a lot of trash talking and sexy teasing as you could find in any of his matches. It all made me feel like if I was part of the newest Jobberpaloozer installment. 
 
I was amazed at how well Jonny adapted the intensity of the match to my personal level of strength and flexibility. I experienced some true stretching and pain at times, but it was really nice for me to have my pain tolerance being tested still within my range of comfort. Also, I was impressed on how well he incorporated all the requests that I made on the description for the match. This was my particular fantasy and everyone else’s maybe different. The impression I have is that Jonny would be able to satisfy whatever setting you would like to recreate.
 
Communication with Jonny can be tricky since his legions of fans probably flood his email every day. Just be patient. Jonny replied each and every of my emails along the way. And it was worth the wait, since just thinking about all of this still puts a smile on my face. It was just my best Christmas gift ever. “
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Consumer Reports

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I’ve known of at least half a dozen homoerotic wrestlers who have attempted to leverage their following into marketing more than what fans can access through the main producers. Most of those entrepreneurial efforts, I’m sad to say, have fizzled before they really began. I think the skill sets involved in being an awesome wrestler don’t always coincide with a strong business sense.

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All of that said, I was excited to sample the goods when Jonny Firestorm launched his website and advertised some customizable products available. Having met Jonny in person during my pilgrimage to Pembroke a couple of years ago, I felt like I could trust Jonny as a vendor, and I feel that trust was well-placed. I zeroed in specifically on the “Custom Video” option. I emailed him. He was very responsive, trading messages back and forth to clarify the scope of what sort of match it might be and how I’d like to customize it. Jonny went to great pains to get all of my wish list made explicit, because, as he explained, the last thing he’d want would be an unsatisfied customer who was disappointed.

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It was an interesting assignment, to put down into words for Jonny Firestorm what would turn me on.  For having overshared on this blog for nearly 5 years (!?!), it took me by surprise how conspicuous and vulnerable it felt to paint by the numbers with Jonny exactly the scenario, the drama, the particular holds that would make me want to invest a considerable sum of money. And I’m thrilled to report that Jonny was a pro to work with, putting me at ease, drawing my desires out with remarkable sensitivity for working through the medium of email.

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Regular readers won’t be surprised that I enthusiastically requested that Jonny’s co-star in this custom match be long-time favorite homoerotic wrestler fantasy man of mine, Lon Dumont. When Jonny got back to me to let me know that he could book Lon, I was a little dizzy with anticipation. He gave me a time frame to expect the match to get taped.  In this case, it was a window of about a month and a half when they would have at least one or two opportunities to be in the same place. The weekend that the match was taped, I knew it was happening, and Jonny got back to me within a few days to let me know he’d take another week or two of editing before sending it out. In the mean time, he satisfied my request for some preview pics (featured here) to keep my fever running.

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Jonny gave me the option of method of delivery (download, DVD, hell, he even said he might be able to dig up an old VCR tape if I really wanted that). When the match arrived, my heart was pounding with a level of excitement that I haven’t really felt since the early days of my life as a consumer of homoerotic wrestling products, when I’d nearly faint with anticipation when a tape would arrive, light-headed every inch of the distance between the mailbox and my tape player.

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I LOVE my custom Jonny v Lon match! They hit about 90% of the marks I’d asked for. They were both in outrageously phenomenal shape. In fact, Lon was so close to being on stage for his next bodybuilding competition that he was pretty well near starved. While that made for awesome physique watching, it did leave him noticeably weak and pretty quickly tired out. Jonny apologized for that before I even saw the match. For the record, he had let me decide whether they should tape before or after Lon’s competition, so it was my choice.  That said, at least half of what turns me on about both Jonny and Lon is the sell, the drama, and the mammoth personalities, which were there in abundance, even if the energy level was a little low.

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One of the Bard-fetish elements that I asked for was a lot of dialogue, including between-fall extended commentary as the winner of each fall flexed for me as he explained how it is he defeated his opponent. The boys made that happen in ways that crack me up and totally arouse me at exactly the same time.

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The cost was considerable, and I feel like I got my money’s worth. The time, the talent, and the production costs of putting it together are immense, I’m sure. More to the point, owning my own fantasy translated to the small screen starring Jonny Firestorm and Lon Dumont is incredibly satisfying. I’m sure costs vary depending on the specifics requested (e.g., I really wanted this to be a ring match, so booking a pro wrestling ring I’m sure comes with a price). But Jonny delivered, and for what Jonny (and Lon) delivered, I’m a very happy customer.

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Ironically, within a couple of weeks of me getting my custom video, another wrestling fan and regular reader of neverland contacted me to let me know about his experience with another of Jonny’s product lines: a private match.  I’ll share his consumer report tomorrow…

Andronicus

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Muscle Domination Wrestling’s Tidus

I’ve got a significant crush on Muscle Domination Wrestling’s Tidus. I’m not precisely sure why the stud grabs me so, so hard, but he does. He’s not the biggest or hardest. He sells okay, not outstanding, just okay. His gear lately has been annoying the hell out of me. But damn, he turns holds my attention with a vice grip! I hope he gets his fine ass back in the ring, preferably in a thong.  Short of that, I’ll take what I can get, which is Tidus in a brutal squash, smart mouthing and trash talking to the bitter, tragic end in the Super Men season 2 episode 2. I’m getting wildly confused by the backstory to the Super Men series at this point, but Tidus’ scene involves him forgetting his sword and getting trounced by the prince of the planet, portrayed by Morgan Cruise. I’d love a plot I can sink my teeth into a bit more, but I won’t complain about getting to see more of my inexplicable infatuation: Tidus.

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Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month

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There was a stiff competition for homoerotic wrestler of the month this time around. Whenever BG East drops a new catalog, the field is thick, and add to that a couple of choice releases from Rock Hard Wrestling, a couple eye catching matches in Naked Kombat, and some hot new commodities at Muscle Domination Wrestling, and there was a lot of stiffness to go round, believe me.  One hot hunk in particular had me wrapped around his little finger, however, just about as completely as he had his opponent essentially begging for the wrestling foreplay to come to an end and full throttle fucking to commence. Bringing a hot, hard, gorgeous hunk to the point of pleading to be allowed to concede so he can give in to his consuming lusts is a most excellent plot point, and one entirely convincingly-delivered by my new reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month…

 

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5’10”, 160 lbs, Skrapper

… Skrapper.

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Wrestle or fuck? Wrestle or fuck?

 

Now, I’ve had my eye on Skrapper a long time. His silky baritone rumbling out the phrase, “dude” is like Pavlov’s bell to me these days. He just has to say, “dude” and I’m salivating and hard as a rock. Clearly, I’m not the only one who’s been conditioned to expect intensely hot things from Skrapper, because it takes zero time at all before Trey Dixon is telegraphing his raging lust when the two show up in the mat room in Passion and Punishment. Typically, homoerotic wrestling starts with the tension of wrestling, but not this time. This time, the boys both clearly and obviously want to fuck from the start. There’s no pretense, no bluster. They’re sucking face and grinding crotches in an instant. And I’m buying ever second of it.

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Skrapper is always insanely intense!

Now, I assume his parents did not literally name him “Skrapper” on his birth certificate, but they should have. Time and time again, the gutsy, fierce, hungry, stance of Skrapper has demonstrated little finesse and an overabundance of raw emotion.  The boy just wants to dominate so… fucking… much! You can’t swing a cat without hitting a homoerotic wrestler who is trying to look like he’s bringing the heat. Skrapper just is. I buy it wholesale every time. No pretense. No posing. He just wants to grind an opponent into submission with anything and everything it may take, which frequently includes Skrapper’s balls in his face. It’s not always the case, but frequently Skrapper let’s us glimpse his erotic freak flag, perhaps never as openly as when the sadistic-erotic master himself got hold of him, Kid Vicious. But as much as I adore that match with KV, I tell you Passion and Punishment is even more sexual and sexier.

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Trey wants this so much Skrapper can taste it!

 

It’s not uncommon for me to get critiques of my favorite-picks who pull the “two-to-tango” card. Let me just intercept that one by acknowledging Trey Dixon more than carries his weight in this match on all fronts. Where the hell did they find this stud!? This is just his SECOND match, and both of them have burned holes in my retinas for being over the top scorching hot! I don’t know if Trey has done porn (though I fully expect someone to tell me now), but he should, because raw, sexy sensuality drips off of him like honey. This guy is no rookie, regardless of how many matches I’ve seen him in on camera, and he quite nearly out-scraps Skrapper

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If Skrapper wasn’t so damn sexy, this match might have been all sown up ages ago.

 

Trey’s Achilles heel, so to speak, is Skrapper’s sexiness. Whenever Trey gets a head of steam in the match, when Skrapper is vulnerable, wrapped up, tied down, Trey cannot resist tasting the goods. They want each other. They need each other. Fuck, they DESERVE each other, working their fine asses overtime in this non-stop throw down that leaves the mat drenched in sweat.

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Two hot, horny, pumped and primed bodies!

 

However, I give this to Skrapper not because he, in the end, ends up on top, but because he beats Trey not just into submission, but into nearly weeping for release. They’re both exhausted, totally wasted, their bodies bruised, slapping against one another wetly, glistening in the light. And that slow burning lust that’s been on the simmer the entire time finally makes Trey melt as Skrapper bears down on him, domineering over top of him, that phenomenal tenacity being the barest finger on the scales that tip finally in Skrapper’s direction.  Then there’s this smirk on Skrapper’s face, an exhausted, but certain acknowledgment that he’d broken his opponent in body and spirit not just by physical domination, but by raw, sexual appeal.

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Who’s got whom?

Honestly, I won’t be surprised if I hear someone argue that they watched the match and thought Trey “won.” It’s just that close of a physical battle, and the climax teeters on the edge of just saying “fuck it” to the question of who out-wrestled whom as the boys settle in to seriously go to town on one another. With 30 seconds left in the taping, honestly, a strong case could be made either way.  But then there are those last 30 seconds…

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Skrapper’s walking out of here with Trey’s fine ass and the title of homoerotic wrestler of the month firmly in hand.

 

Skrapper breaks the intimate embrace and snags Trey in a side headlock, dragging the stunned, beautiful, incredibly hot stud out of the mat room and, presumably, onto just about any flat surface out of camera shot to ride that bright red, round ass of his like a rodeo star. The chemistry between these two is electric. Their mutual ferocity is epic. The raw blend of lust and wrestling is intuitive and as far as I’m concerned, 100% genuine. But for pure entertainment, the hunk here that grabs me by the balls and makes me gasp over and over again first and foremost is Skrapper. The title of homoerotic wrestler of the month, just like Trey Dixon’s phenomenal ass, belongs unquestionably to him.

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Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month: Skrapper.