Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month

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February has arrived, and with it a horrendously difficult decision on my part when it comes to anointing a new homoerotic wrestler of the month.  BG East alone pumped out an incredibly deep bench to draw from.  Just sticking to the very, very top of the line wrestling that grabbed me hardest, I’m seriously drawn to finally put Kid Vicious where he belongs on the throne for his mouthwatering destruction of Len Harder in Ball Bash 3.  Former HWOTM and current top contender for the title of my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler, Lon Dumont, worked nothing short of magic in his hilarious and incredibly sexy Hair Stakes match with frequent nominee for HWOTM, Ethan Andrews.  Eli Black stuffs the ballot box with two hard hitting Gut Bash 10 matches, the most eye-catching for me pitting him against insanely sexy (and shoe-in for a starring role in Hair Stakes 2) Diego Diaz.  Former HWOTM Aryx Quinn and Alexi Adamov put up an automatically iconic muscle on muscle ring battle in Ring Revenge, and in separate matches, former HWOTMs Denny Cartier and Jonny Firestorm are instant contenders for the title on that release as well (it would be a 3-peat for Denny!).  I’ve already swooned publicly over two rookies who made my eyes pop out in their go-go boy beatdown in Motel Madness 12: Serbian sex god Arn Nedic and insanely beautiful babyface Brit Connor Cross.  And speaking of big, big rookie splashes, the tidal wave set off from massively hairy beast Alain Leclair getting the hands-on welcome that only a devotee of homoerotic wrestling line Ben Monaco can give in Mat Scraps 2 tweaks my impulse to tap a rook.  At Thunder’s Arena, a leaner vision of Z-Man is back against a thonged, bootilicous muscle boy by the name of Specimen in Mat Wars 37.  Rock Hard Wrestling put out a lip-licking babyface muscle battle between Brodie Fisher (who needs to compete in a most luscious nipples contest with Mason Brooks) and Jason Kane in Strength and Struggle. RHW also celebrated the new year with a Brutally Bashed tag team match (always a score for me) that makes me award a second nomination for Ethan Andrews as well as Brit pugilist Will Stanley (I’m a sucker for an accent… and a lower abdominal tat… and muscles….).   Muscle Domination Wrestling has been demanding some of my time recently with matches like mouthwatering daddy’s boy Damien Rush Piledriving the hell out of Tony Law, and an entrancing, nay, hypnotically wonderful performance piece starring Mr. Franchise Master Kevin as the Immortal Vampire to Damien Rush’s Renfield as a members-only release.  Did I miss anyone?  Probably. Sorry boys.  My mind is already spinning out control with so much high class hotness to choose from.  It’s not like any of the above fail to deliver exhaustingly satisfying homoerotic wrestling performances.  But push, shove, and I’m forced to pick as the one homoerotic wrestler of the month…
5’6″, 135 pounds: Eli Black
… the first 3-peat winner of the Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month title, Eli Black.
Eli isn’t even at the same altitude as Latino giant Diego!
There’s more than a hint of a David v Goliath element about the confrontation between 5’6″ and 135 pounds of painfully lean fighting machine Eli Black and the 6’3″ and 184 pounds of long, luxurious, sculpted Latino lover Diego Diaz.  Diego’s laughter rumbles from deep in his chest when Eli finally convinces him that he’s Diego’s opponent.  The lightly hairy chested tallboy sucker punches the MMA fighter, lifts him off the top turnbuckle where Eli is perched, and quite literally flings Eli more than halfway across the ring.  Holy fuck, the difference in size between these two wrestlers is astonishing!
Gorgeous Diego glistens as he owns Eli early on!

Early going, and this is all about Diego.  He’s overwhelming.  He bullies and outmuscles Eli like he’s pummeling a 3rd grader for his lunch money.  The condensation drips slow and sticky off of Diego’s pouty lower lip as he scoffs at the gross ignorance of whoever thought to send this little kid into the fray against a hairy chested skyscraper of a hunk like him.  He peels Eli up off the mat like snatching a lucky penny off the sidewalk.  He flings him into the corner and completely overwhelms typically fiercely offensive (in many ways) Eli Black, leaving the anatomy chart of a battler wilting into the ropes.  Eli’s chiseled abs are bright red within a couple of minutes of Diego’s massive mitts pounding them like a tough cut of beef.  What the fuck were they thinking, indeed!?

Diego totally dominates and looks like a god as he does it!

The story they tell is more complex than this, but let me just cut to the point at which Eli persistently grabs me by the chin and yells in my face that he’s the only possible candidate for HWOTM.  Diego is completely brutalizing “the kid.”  It’s ugly, I tell you (in an awesome way).  He’s twist-tied Eli into the ropes to stretch out those gorgeous abs and leave him wide open for the Latino heartthrob’s gargantuan fists to punch unobstructed. He’s picked the 135 pounder up and slammed him down to the mat over and over and over again.  Then he drags Eli, nearly limp and mostly unable to defend himself, off the mat, wraps his huge hands around his throat, and then hoists Eli up in a pristine, jaw dropping overhead choke.  A lesser man might have straight-armed Eli directly upward (it takes less strength), but fuck that.  Diego holds Eli by nothing but his throat out in front of him a tad so he can watch the kid’s porcelain white face instantly flush dark red.  Diego’s body, posed in this moment of total, unquestionable domination, is simply perfect.  His gorgeous two handfuls of strong, round glutes; his tantalizing mouthful of a package; the sweat making his pecs glisten underneath his light coat of fur; his long, brown locks sticking damply to his temples; his gorgeous biceps bulging with the 135 pound deadweight hanging at his mercy in his fingers… this story is ALL about Diego.  But then, beet red and eyes popping out of their sockets, Eli seems to snap.  He shoves the palms of his hands against the Latino giant’s bulging shoulders, pushing their bodies apart just a few more inches.  Diego still looks on, snarling insults, admiring the total control he has Eli under… until gracefully, Eli pries his right knee against Diego’s upper abs, swings his left foot backward, and finally drives his left knee sharply into the Latino’s long, long, long and lovely abdomen.

Eli snaps!

Words don’t do it justice, so let me just say that this incredible counter made me go back and watch it again and again, my heart racing harder every time.  The athleticism throughout this match is mind boggling, and this particular moment is simply an astounding feat of strength, balance and coordination.  The air comes rushing out of Diego’s lungs and, shocked, he drops Eli to the mat.  Gulping on air, he tries to grab hold of the offense, and the story, again, but no doing.  Hurricane Eli hits, and long, tall Diego’s got nowhere to go but down.  He’s cornered, trapped, and pummeled.

Diego’s long legs miss their mark, but Eli’s don’t!

The story was Diego’s overpowering size and strength.  The story becomes Eli’s lightning quick, laser beam focused kicks.  Our 135 pound MMA champ has had enough of this shit.  He got completely humiliated by Morgan Cruise his first time out of the gate.  His second gut bash outing (the B-side to this DVD) demonstrated Eli’s complete technical superiority in every detail over mohawked muscle stud Joah Bindao, and still it’s Eli’s sweet ass choked out cold on the mat as Joah snarls and mutters incoherently in victory as he strides out of the ring.  Third time isn’t just a charm for Eli, it’s his last straw as he opens up a can of full contact whoop ass on Diego that the Latino stud and everyone else in the world won’t soon forget.

Eli bruises the big man from the inside out!

I’m pretty sure that gorgeous Diego doesn’t take a full breath for the last 15 or so minutes of this match, because there isn’t more than a split second here or there that he doesn’t have one body part or another of Eli’s jabbed into his diaphragm.  Turns out, all those overwhelming muscles don’t work so well when they’re deprived of oxygen!  Eli is an absolute machine, and by machine I’m thinking of the homicidal computer Hal 9000 from 2001: A Space Odyssey.  He’s focused.  He’s relentless.  His kicks are a blur. His punches sink in deep.  And when Diego is flat on his back, gasping for air and bruised everywhere between his chin and his crotch, 135 pounds of Eli Black trampling his midsection is just big enough to make a big man wail.

Aren’t so big now, are you, Diego?

Yep.  This is Eli Black’s story to tell, mother fuckers!  Keeping the Latino sex kitten flat on his back leaves 5’6″ Eli towering over him, bashing and pummeling.  Knees crash over and over into Diego’s gut.  Eli nearly rips the long stud’s head off at the neck, wrenching Diego’s back apart vertebrae by vertebrae.  Hurricane Eli just stops right over top of his opponent and blasts the Latin American landscape with blow after blow, leaving Diego with nothing to do but hunker down and pray he’s still alive once the storm finally passes.

Eli’s ass wants a recount for Best Butt of 2012!

Now I’d love to get my hands all over Diego’s body, but the meaner Eli gets and the harder his supernaturally lean body works, the more I can’t take my eyes off of him.  That ass!  His zero-bodyfat muscle glutes stretching well beyond the bottom of his baby blue trunks as he squeezes the steel cables of his legs in a nearly successful attempt to snap Diego in half are epic.  I know some fans like their wrestlers bigger, heftier, whatever… and hell if I’m not right with you in crazy lust for the feel of Diego’s mountainous pecs in my hands, for example… but when Eli does what Eli does best, the eroticism of intensely aggressive ring wrestling sprinkled liberally with MMA strikes is homoerotic gold for me.  His maniacally conditioned body is insanely fucking hot!

Eli’s rage has taken him over the edge

Eli breaks the once invincible big man down piece by piece in this relentless and increasingly vicious assault.  Fuck it if anyone at BG East thinks Eli can’t handle himself in a Gut Bash.  The man won Best Abs of 2012, for god’s sake!  Perhaps it’s PTSD flashbacks to the Mastodon dripping sweat onto Eli’s quivering bod.  Or maybe it’s the shame of having roused from his choke out humiliation at the hands of Joah.  Whatever it is that motivates the depths he goes to against Diego (about 5 minutes past the point that he could have secured a half a dozen submissions if he’d bothered), Eli has snapped.  Diego is a limp mess in one of the prettiest trees of woe I’ve seen.  He’s got nothing to defend himself against Eli’s stomps and punches and knees.  He’s done.  Stick a fork in him.  It’s over.  And suddenly Eli dives out of the ring and sprints off camera, returning 10 seconds later with a medicine ball to pound into his opponent’s wide open abs for still further unnecessary brutality.  No amount of destruction seems good enough. No humiliation, no act of glazed-eyed viciousness is sufficient.

This is Eli Black’s world!

Diego’s pleas for mercy fade as it’s obvious Eli can’t hear him through the ringing of rage filling his ears.  Eli dives out of the ring and returns with a dumbbell from the weight rack.  He drags Diego’s gorgeous ass to the middle of the ring and pounds the Latino’s quivering abs with it.  Holy fuck, is Diego getting out of this alive!?!

Turns out, “little” Eli Black is just the right size to make Diego Diaz cry!

Diego’s fans need not worry too much, because he’s still breathing by the time Eli storms out of the ring having pounded away the memories of Gut Bashes past.  Whether or not Diego has the guts, so to speak, to show his face in the BG East ring again, however, I can’t attest.  I hope so.  In my personal dictionary, his picture appears next to the entry, “eye candy.”  But he was no match for a “little kid” 50 pounds lighter, who, once provoked, unleashed a Gut Bash like I’ve never seen before.  I started out thinking that this was Diego’s story to tell, but I was wrong.  It was Eli’s turn to strike back, and for the athleticism, the power, the intensity, and the physical perfection of a body whittled down to knowing but it’s singular purpose (ass-kicking), Eli Black is, yet again, my homoerotic wrestler of the month.

3-time homoerotic wrestler of the month: Eli Black

Picking Up the Remote Again

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I know that there are probably no more than a half dozen or so of you that share my particular homoerotic wrestling infatuation with the fantasy of wrestling newsboys.  I’m pretty okay with that, actually.  I’d like to think of myself as someone who marches to my own drummer, at least from time to time.  So I’m pulling out the snare drum and pounding one out regardless of who cares, because late breaking news today is making me think long and hard on not only my active wrestling imagination, but also my real life morning routine.

Recurring star of many of my homoerotic wrestling fantasies: CNN’s (!) Chris Cuomo

Chris Cuomo, long-time infatuation of mine, has just been announced as a new hire at CNN to host/co-host a morning news program.  You probably didn’t hear them, but a choir of angels just belted out a C-major across three octaves at the end of that last sentence.

Chris has been getting his big muscles nice and wet as a triathlete lately

I was emotionally crushed and thrown into a spiral of existential angst when ABC passed over promoting Chris from the newsreader chair to the anchor spot, choosing instead the hot little piece of baklava George Stephanopoulos while simultaneously booting Chris into 20/20 purgatory.  Although I find Josh Elliott surprisingly adorable in the newsreader spot on GMA, I simply haven’t felt the rousing hit of lust mixed with my morning news since Chris and his HUGE hands left the scene (seriously, have you seen his hands!?).

Sam Champion is thinking, “Holy fuck, his cock is 2 inches behind my head!”

I hear he’s been serving his time at 20/20 just fine, though I’ve never bothered to track down exactly when 20/20 airs to see for myself.  His occasional reappearance on GMA to do some gratuitous tease and plug (sounds fun, actually) of one of his more attention-getting investigative pieces for 20/20 always left me with a reminder of his hotness mixed in with the lingering sense of loss.

Chris points out the secret to his sexy success (hint, it’s not the fish)

Obviously, I’m not the only one who’s caught on to the ridiculously hot Italian muscle bod hiding underneath that big ‘n’ tall wardrobe of his, considering he’s been writing occasional columns for Men’s Health and continuing to permit himself to be photographed pumping his worship-ready muscles.  He’s also disclosed that as part of his triathlon training he’s wearing banana hammocks and skin tight (aka “aerodynamic”) gear.  Baby!

Look at the pecs barely squeezed into that Men’s Health t-shirt!!!

So, yeah, I’m there, CNN.  You say you’re still deciding who he may co-host with?  You don’t know what will happen to Solidad O’Brien?  Blah, blah, blah.  You had me at “Cuomo.”  This will, undoubtedly, push a new News Division homoerotic wrestling fantasy match up my to-do list, now (with the enticing addition at GMA of an additional gorgeous correspondent, Gio Benitez, to join the likes of insanely fuckable Matt Gutman).  And I’m desperately hoping that I can get back to the good old days of settling down in front of the television early in the morning with my cup of tea in one hand and my mounting excitement in the other as Chris Cuomo turns me on and at least occasionally finds a reason to have to go shirtless.

I’m announcing the official open to shirtless fishing season for Chris Cuomo!

Still-Frame Fantasies

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I remember the first time I came across (so to speak) sites like Can-Am and BG East online.  My heart pounded in my chest.  This is exactly my thing, I thought!  Holy fuck on a cracker, the images of hot athletes in minuscule gear captured in still-frame in provocative, evocative moments in wrestling sent off explosions in my head (and pants, sure).  I emotionally wrestled for a while with my own closet before I ordered my first homoerotic wrestling videos.  But that period after I first glimpsed homoerotic wrestling in still-frame online and before I had a video popped in the VCR to watch the action in motion was, in and of itself, a pristinely beautiful thing.  The fantasies that those pics inspired could have fueled a small city with the combustion that they set off inside of me.  Everything that came before and everything that came after the shutter going click to capture a given still-frame was alive with possibility that my virile imagination was thrilled to muse over.  One homoerotic wrestling producer (not KL) once chided me gently for my infatuation with photos, since homoerotic wrestling is, by definition, a kinetic thing best (essentially?) defined in motion.  But my homoerotic wrestling kink has always included a deep passion for the fantasies that a particular wrestling still-frame can ignite within me that, occasionally, exceeds the reality once I get my eyes on the video.  With that in mind, I have a whole new batch of still frame fantasies ignited in response to the preview pics of BG East’s latest catalog release, Catalog 97.  So many fantasies, so much erotic energy generated!  And I’m a major fan of BG East’s commitment to document their products with both a videographer and photographer present.  The boys with their eyes in the viewfinders of the cameras deserve major credit in my book, because these images are stunningly gorgeous!

I’ve been waiting to see this hairy beast that friend of this blog, Ben Monaco, discovered on camera, and Mat Scraps 2 finally introduces the world to pouty-lipped muscle beast, Alain LeClair.  He’s 6 foot tall, 187 pounds, and with those telephone poles wrapped around Ben’s abdomen, he’s blowing my mind!  There are more climax-worthy still frames in Ben and Alain’s match, including what looks like intense forced muscle worship, but this pic in particular, with Alain grinning as he watches Ben’s face twisted in agony, is incredibly hot!

The coverboy for Catlog 97 is the stud on the right in this shot, Arn Nedic, who goes gorgeous-muscle-to-gorgeous-muscle with insanely baby face muscleboy, Connor Cross in Motel Madness 12.  I’m imagining that there will be an instant fan base lining up right behind Connor’s incredible muscle ass wrapped so unbelievably tightly in those baby blue trunks.  However, there’s something dizzying about the shots of Arn that are already haunting my dreams (waking and sleeping).  Holy fuck, look at those shoulders!  His pecs alone are sending my erotic fantasies into overdrive.  I don’t think I’ve ever harbored an intense erotic fascination for a Serbian go-go boy before, but I’ve got one now. Bad.

Just saying “Alexi Adamov versus Aryx Quinn” is enough to get me hard, but damn!  The preview pics of this clash of titans in Ring Revenge 1 are wildly sexy.  Is it possible that Alexi is still growing taller?  Because he seems to dwarf his opponents more and more, despite facing the hot, smooth muscle bod belonging to someone like Aryx.  Alexi captured, strapped to a ring post, and about to get those picture PERFECT abs pounded is like an image out of Greek mythology, and, of course, my erotic fantasies.

Drake Marcos has been incredibly delightful to get to know since his debut just a couple of months ago.   He has the looks and the personality that instantly attract me.  That Cheshire Cat smile and obvious enthusiasm for high stakes, profuse sweat, unrefereed erotic wrestling are profoundly compelling.  But I have to admit, I sort of overlooked Ray Naylor when he debuted earlier in the autumn, my attention drawn more to the magic of his first opponent, Cameron Mathews.  But this particular preview pic from Drake and Ray’s match in Mat Scraps 2 keeps me coming back to admire Ray’s beautifully sweaty back and that incredibly hot ass, positioned so perfectly with Drake’s face trapped in that luscious figure-4 headlock.  Talk about cheek-to-cheek!  What an image!

Again, there are a dozen evocative images from Eli Black and Diego Diaz’ ab-destroying ring match in Gut Bash 10: Eli Strikes Back.  The size differential between these two men is amazing, and the side-by-sides that illustrate Diego’s beautifully musclebody towering over painfully lean “little” Eli tell an incredibly hot story.  But there’s something about this pic of Diego’s gorgeous, hairy pecs stretched out, his glute flexed, his massive white boots on those incredibly long legs tucked up underneath Eli’s chin, and the pain contorting Diego’s handsome face into a mask of agony that’s got me hooked.

Again, there are a dozen pics of Denny Cartier’s Ring Revenge 1 match with beach buddy rookie Kai Sotelo, but I’m so enthralled with 2-time homoerotic wrestler of the month Denny Cartier that I can’t take my eyes off of this solo image of him.  There are arguably “prettier” wrestlers.  There are unarguably bigger wrestlers.  But there’s just something about Denny that continues to stroke me hard.  The fuck-me brown eyes in this shot are daring me to dive into the ring with him, I swear.  And that dimpled chin of his was obviously stolen straight off of a 1950’s big screen leading man.  I long to see Denny take a major league heel turn, but then again I also long to see someone not only best Denny, but give him a severe tongue lashing in defeat (with some lingering sucking saved for that chin and those nipples).  So far, this is not the direction Denny’s wrestling has taken him with BG East, but pics like these have me helplessly writing that plot in my own mind.

Speaking of helpless!  This image from Kid Vicious taking ownership of Len Harder in Ball Bash 3 is sculpture that deserves to be in an art museum.  Every inch of this, every angle, everything is so fucking gorgeous!!!  From the self-satisfied sneer on KV’s handsome face to the exquisite, gasping agony on Len, there’s a whole story (or 30) summed up in this one shot.  The total mastery, Len’s semi-erect cock dangling vulnerably, the defensive-yet-amorous way the Len clutches KV’s neck with his right hand… I’m as captured by this photo as Len is completely captured by KV!

Lon Dumont’s physique is always profoundly pleasing to me, of course, but the shots of him from his Hair Stakes 1 (of many more, please!?)  match with Ethan Andrews are pure fantasy gold.  I remember in Lon’s Gut Bash battle against massively bigger Joe Robbins that Lon was not about to concede that big Joe’s body was better conditioned than petite Lon’s bodybuilder bod… except for the legs.  Lon apparently has some insecurities about his legs, and side by side with the sequoias that Joe calls his thighs, Lon was giving all the credit to the big man beneath the belt.  That was last bodybuilding season.  A year or so later, Lon’s back and putting his hair on the line against recent addition to the BG East fold, Ethan, and clearly, Lon’s been blasting his legs like a madman.  Hair pulling is, in and of itself, a major turn on for me (when done right), so this match is automatically high on my list.  But this pic in particular, with Lon hanging so vulnerably in a tree of woe as Ethan steps on his long locks, sends me right over the edge.  The drama, the beauty, and those pink trunks squeezed onto Lon’s smooth, lickable body is picture perfect!

Tyrell Tomsen and Jonny Firestorm have both, independently grabbed my attention often, including on the pages of this blog.  Jonny’s photo expose on his stunning forearms was one my favorite Christmas gifts this year, and Tyrell has been a vision of physical perfection in the ring making me swoon.  The pairing of these two is an intoxicating idea for Ring Revenge 1, and this image of Jonny hanging, body tensed and suffering as sweat drips off him, in Tyrell’s lovely bearhug is fantastic.  This is another example of the visually stunning proportions of two bodies sized entirely differently. Jonny’s track record as a serious badass award winning heel, paired with the screaming agony on his face as he suffers helplessly in Tyrell’s arms, sends my homoerotic wrestling fantasies into overdrive!

Ty Garrison has been making me cum for years now, appearing in BG East UK releases for a long time.  Like Denny Cartier, Ty gives me such a powerful hit of a “real” bloke, a guy who quickly rips to shreds any awkward pretense of a wrestling scenario on camera to get down to a seriously competitive and fiercely focused wrestler.  This Motel Madness 12 pic of Ty’s face smothered against the crotch of a another “Denny,” that is, this stunningly pretty refugee from some French boyband, Deni Dupuis, does all sorts of things to my wrestling kink.  Tighty whities, Brit footie fan vs. French beauty, lovely rookie vs. thoroughbred veteran… this works me into a lather in an instant.

My final still frame fantasy from BG East’s new release of Catalog 97 is this incredible shot of hairy heel Morgan Cruise flexing in victory with muscle hunk Marc Merino’s head locked up tight between Morgan thighs as the big, gorgeous, naked jobber tops himself off in obedient submission.  Again, the contrasting bodies, the stark naked beauty, the narrative written across Morgan’s gloating face and the completely dominated position of Marc… damn, this is a stunningly hot image.  I know that Muscle Destruction 1 is a 1:1 battle, but this shot inflames my desperate imagination longing for a full contact tag team story.  Just picture this view as belonging to Marc’s tag team partner, watching from the corner helplessly as his big, powerful muscle stud of a partner is so completely humiliated and destroyed.  Or, better yet, picture this perspective as belonging to Morgan’s tag team partner, having subdued whoever Marc’s chump of a tag partner is, and leaving Morgan’s wingman to slowly stroll up, kneel down between Marc’s gorgeous thighs, and force those bronze knees apart.

There are more beautiful, tempting sensations to be sampled in Catalog 97, but these particular images captured my imagination hard, igniting countless fantasies of what could lay behind and ahead of these moments in time.  I’m looking forward to getting my eyes on the matches themselves, no doubt.  I’m a wide-eyed fanatic for trash talk, and did I mention that Lon Dumont and Ethan Andrews face one another in the ring in Hair Stakes!?  But for the moment, the particular titillation of these still-frame fantasies take me back to those first moments of discovering the online world of homoerotic wrestling and knowing that whatever the reality of the matches themselves, these images are beautiful proof that this kink I love is something I share with a whole lot of others.

Fuck Concessions

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I love how technology and blogs have been increasingly bringing fans of homoerotic wrestling into closer proximity with homoerotic wrestlers.  The first time I read one of Joe’s interviews with a wrestler, I was thrilled and inspired.  I’m sure there are clock punchers in the business, but the revelation that some of our favorite wrestlers-for-gay-eyes enjoy the attention and appreciate the celebrity they possess within our circle of interest somehow sweetens the pot of the homoerotic wrestling industry.  I think of the interviews I’ve had the opportunity to conduct as highlights of the labor of love that I invest in this blog.  They’ve brought a welcome sense of humor and humanity to the fantasies I treasure of homoerotic wrestling, and, unexpectedly, they’ve made me a fierce advocate for fans treating wrestlers with common decency and plenty of respect.

Rio Garza – BG East’s Best Body of 2012
So when BG East’s Best of 2012 poll came out, and even more when I thought about the results as they were announced, it made me wonder what the objects of our popularity polls think of being ranked, ordered, and lauded or looked over.  From the consumer side of homoerotic wrestling, I found the poll to be a very fun exercise in examining my own tastes in comparison with more than 500 or so other fans.  But from the wrestler side of things, I had to wonder what the boys themselves thought of the exercise. Any gloating?  Any hurt feelings?

Lon Dumont – Nominated for Top Heel, Best Body, Best Abs, Best Butt… but came out with a trophy
Hell YES!  Lon Dumont sent me a text demanding a recount.  I don’t know if a recount would help, but I’m entirely with him on finding the results unsatisfying when it comes to recognizing what an insanely hot wrestler he is!  My hope is that, as he enters a new bodybuilding season in a few weeks, he’ll take this defeat at the BG East polls and turn it into gold on stage, and then bring in his bodybuilding trophies and shove them, and his bulging biceps, in the face of his next opponent.

Cameron Matthews asks you to just look at this photo and explain his absence from the nominees for best abs and best body

One of Lon’s buddies, Cameron Matthews, also was not pleased, despite anchoring Babyface Brawls 2, winner of best ring match.  Cameron made one of the most compelling arguments against his exclusion from the categories of best abs and best body by simply posting to his blog this fucking gorgeous photo of himself from his recent wrestling trip to the UK, in which his unbelievably hot six-pack was doused in oil and on awesome display.  Under the title “Best of 2012 Complaints,” Cam reviews the slights and mistake of the pollsters themselves.  “Didn’t even make it into the finalist of Best Body 2012.  3rd Place as Top Babyface.  Not ranked amongst Best Abs.”  Even his razor thin loss to Kid Karisma in the Best Butt category merely inflamed Cameron’s outrage, prompting him to demand a recount.  Personally, I think it’s a stroke of pure genius that Cameron has apparently been inspired by this miscarriage of justice to commit himself to earning the title of Best Heel of 2013.  I’m wholeheartedly ready for him to earn my vote!

Eli Black won nearly everything he was nominated for… and still he’s pissed!
Even the overwhelming winners at the polls seem a little irked at some of the subtleties of the voting and commentary.  I received this extensive text rant from Eli Black early yesterday morning, I’m sure at least in part in response to my gentle critique that Lon’s abs might merit more credit than Eli’s:

Trying to provoke Eli?!!!!! My abs are the very best abs in the wrestling seen these days!!!! 100% American Muscle!!!!! The votes were rigged!!!!! I won them all! I am the face wherever I go, hence why I am Mr. Primus, and I shutdown any compotition around me!!! Austin Cooper?!!! Kid Karisma?!!! For get about it! Eli Black all the way! I’m the champ, and no one’s dethroning me. End of story. My abs are chiseled by God himself!!!!! Picture perfect! No one else could even hold my jock strap!!!!! You people like to forget this is Eli Black’s world – y’all just live in it!

Hard to argue with, isn’t it?  The mountain of exclamation points alone sort of beat you into submission similarly to the vicious beatings that Eli’s been pounding into the bodies of his opponents as of late.  And seriously, what’s to argue with?  Coop fans may want to quibble with the implication that Austin’s Wrestler Spotlight shouldn’t have garnered more votes than Eli’s.  And I’m first in line to raise a skeptical eyebrow at Eli’s suggestion that his truly astonishingly gorgeous ass is definitively superior to the world class glutes that belong to Best Butt winner Kid Karisma.  But Eli has a way about him of being so… persuasive.  And I’d give my left testicle for a chance to see Kid K and Eli go ass-on-ass in the ring until one of them is, literally, submissively holding the winner’s sweat soaked jock strap.  But scoring wins as Best Debut of 2012, Best Abs, and starring in the Best Mat Battle of the year, it’s hard to miss the ring of stark truth in Eli’s words: It’s Eli’s world, people.  We just live in it!

A nod to the fans: Cameron Matthews is one of the many homoerotic wrestlers who appreciates being appreciated

Honestly, even with Eli’s full court press of a rebuttal to the poll results and my needling, every wrestler I’ve heard from has clearly taken the year end poll as a good bit of fun that they’re happy to be part of.  And I love that about this community!  Mix in homoeroticism, fanatical lust, larger than life personalities, drop dead gorgeous bodies, and a healthy dose of humor, and 2012 goes down in my book as a banner year for BG East and the entire homoerotic wrestling industry.

Unglaublich!

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I foster an ongoing low boiling lust for Dan, better known as SteelMuscleGod.  SMG has been the subject of several brief homoerotic wrestling fan/fantasy fiction pieces I’ve written for neverland, and the sexy stud was awesome enough to give me an interview last year that gave us all a glimpse into the mind of an online entrepreneur in the muscle worship/gay wrestling kink world.  I’ve also mentioned around here a guilty little pleasure of mine in the form of a recurring supporting character in SMG’s muscle worship and wrestling video collection who SMG affectionately refers to as “Wimpy Boy,” or on special occasions, “Bitch Boy.”  After a hiatus of a couple of years from appearing with SMG on camera, Wimpy Boy returned last autumn for some bedroom wrestling scenes that made me join the chorus of SMG fans pleading to see SMG receive a full-on muscle worship treatment at Wimpy Boy’s hands.  A couple of months ago, the god and his sidekick posted a very fun commissioned muscle worship piece they did for a certain, unnamed German benefactor of the ars erotica.  Like most of SMG’s work, it’s as much performance art as it is in the family of kink or porn.  Nevertheless, it provokes me… hard… like good art is supposed to.

“He’s just one-third of my size!” says SMG.

The context isn’t entirely clear until partway through the video, but there’s apparently a German sugar daddy online with SMG and Wimpy Boy telling the boys what he’s into.  Unsurprisingly, he’s into much of the same things I’m into when it comes to SMG, including SMG playing the role that he’s strongest at: the steel muscle god narcissist.  “Even though he’s taller than me,” SMG explains as the scene opens, referring to Wimpy Boy in a white t-shirt behind him, “he’s just one-third of my size!”  SMG flexes straining the seams of his skin tight white underarmor sleeveless top.  “Yeahhhh,” he groans/growls, “look at that.”  He kisses his own biceps.  “Tastes goooooood,” he nearly purrs.  “Damn, look at that!”

“Yeah, come on, kiss those biceps!”

I’m looking.  You’re looking.  Wimpy Boy is looking.  “Oh yeah….” SMG mutters, in awe of his own power, “so pumped up!”  As always, that accent, that deep rumbling bass of a voice is a large proportion of the total package that makes SMG such a turn on to me.  Finally, he addresses Wimpy Boy when he commands, “Yeah, come and kiss those biceps!”  Wimpy Boy obeys immediately.  SMG muscles the tall drink of water down.  “Yeahhhh, get down on your knees, man! … Oooo, yeah, that’s big!  Watch me put his face right where the bicep is, yeah.  Grab his head, just like that!”  He smashes Wimpy Boy’s nose into his bicep humiliatingly.  Wimpy Boy keeps planting his lips on the mountainous peak of SMG’s right bi.

“Scheisse!… Unglaublich!… Stein hart!”

“Yeah, talk in German, bitch!” SMG commands, apparently filling a special request from the benefactor online with them.  “Tell him how good and strong these biceps are!”  The first words out of Wimpy Boy’s mouth are entirely muffled by the peak of SMG’s left bicep shoved against his lips.  But eventually he mutters, “Scheisse!  … Unglaublich… Stein hart!”  (Shit! … Unbelievable…  Rock hard!) There’s more German, but that’s as far as my memory of my high school German classes go.

Wimpy Boy is still “in training”

There’s a fascinating (for me) subtext in this 22 minute session.  Apparently like me, the German benefactor wants to see tongue on muscle worship action.  However, Wimpy Boy has said no to that.  SMG tries to make up for it by hungrily sucking on his own biceps extensively.  He spits on his muscles and makes Wimpy Boy rub the saliva across his sculpted physique.  But although the German on the other end of the line asks repeatedly for it, Wimpy Boy adamantly refuses.  No licking.  Frankly, it’s a point of near crisis in the fantasy, I think.  Worshippers don’t clench their jaws and say, “Nein.”  Awed, devoted worshippers don’t refuse their gods.  SMG, however, does a delightful pivot, explaining to the camera conspiratorially that Wimpy Boy is still “in training.”  “He will learn how to do it!” SMG explains with a twinkle in his eye, building the tension between his defiant worshipper and the promise of divine intervention.

“He’s nothing but a puppet to these strong biceps!”

“Yeah, rub your face into that fucking bicep!  Grrrrr.”  I don’t know how to put into text the extremely sexy groan, growl, rumble SMG produces from deep down inside that big chest of his.  It’s insanely sexy.  “He’s nothing but a puppet to these strong biceps.”  Not a moment too soon, SMG takes off his skin tight underarmor top.  Wimpy Boy’s eyes go wide, fixed on his god’s gorgeous pecs.  SMG commands his worshipper to stand behind him, giving us/the German an unobstructed view of SMG’s incredibly lovely body. Wimpy Boy’s hands reach out and begin stroking and massaging SMG’s biceps, shoulders.

Wimpy Boy gasps: “Scheisse!”

At one point, just as Wimpy Boys hands roam forward to cup SMG’s pecs, SMG flexes a most muscular, his pectorals flashing rock hard (stein hart!) in the worshipper’s hands.  “Scheisse!” Wimpy Boy gasps, feeling the power pulsing in the palms of his hands.

“Rub it good.  Feel the massive strength and power.  Fuck, yeah!”

Despite their German sponsor pleading again for Wimpy Boy to suck on those biceps, he won’t do it.  He will, however, join SMG in spitting on his god’s huge biceps.  He’ll obediently massage the spit lubricated muscles of SMG’s arms, shoulders, pecs and abs, his long, lean fingers caressing and squeezing every bulge and crevice.  “Rub hard,” SMG instructs his worshipper.  “Rub it good.  Feel the massive strength and power!  Fuck, yeah!”

Hell.  Yes.

I think it’s the German’s idea, but SMG demands that Wimpy Boy take his shirt off.  Hell, yes!  Their German benefactor wants to see a side by side comparison of Wimpy Boy next to SMG.  Both men chuckle at the thought.  And sure, Wimpy Boy is skinny.  He’s incredibly lean.  He’s flat as a pancake.  And still, there’s something about the combo of the two of them, bare chested, side-by-side, that seriously tweaks my kink more so than a solo session of SMG making love to the camera.  I absolutely nurture my own little personal fantasy of some 1-on-1 with SMG, but I’d give that up in a heartbeat for a full-on session of 2-on-1 with SMG and Wimpy Boy in tandem.  SMG groaning and growling and rumbling; Wimpy Boy muttering awe and adoration in Deutsch; me working some tag team action with Wimpy Boy on SMG with me going absolutely anywhere and everywhere Wimpy Boy isn’t ready to, and then perhaps SMG wrapping up Wimpy Boy is some completely dominating holds for me to let my fingers do the walking all over the long twink’s bod.  SMG would be barking instructions to us both, of course.  Yowza.

“This is getting so hot! Ready to finish you off!”

Wimpy Boy won’t go some places, but he’s delightful where he does go.  Obeying their German sponsor, he rubs his long, lean torso against the rippled topography of SMG’s abs and pecs.  Because SMG is a wrestling fetish object at heart, he grabs Wimpy Boy in a bearhug and makes him suffer.  He drags Wimpy Boy to his knees, grinding his pecs into the flat torso of his overwhelmed worshipper.  “This is getting so hot!  Ready to finish you off! Rub… it… in, so … fucking… goooooood!”

“What, you don’t like it?  I’ll make you like it!  I’ll make you love it!”

When Wimpy Boy drops to his knees and kisses SMG’s 6-pack, ripple by ripple, again there’s more than a nod to the wrestling kinksters among us.  SMG crushes Wimpy Boy’s face into his abs to teach him not just to peck, but to linger.  “That’s it, bitch boy.  What, you don’t like it?!  I’ll make you like it!  I’ll make you love it!”  He swallows him with his muscles, smothering him between his pecs, then shoving Wimpy Boy’s face deep in his armpits.  Wimpy Boy’s scalp turns dark red underneath his pale blond hair as SMG crushes his face into his muscles.  He pounds Wimpy Boy’s forehead against his chest and then drags his nose back and forth.

Wimpy Boy is due for more discipline!

As I said, this is beautiful performance art and it totally gets me off.  SMG’s physique is a wonder, and his exhibitionism is truly entertaining to watch.  His body is, indeed, astonishingly developed and noticeably bigger and more defined since his early days mattress wrestling with Wimpy Boy a couple of years ago.  I’m also struck with the unseen character in this video, the German online typing instructions, commands, pleas.  I love this guy, despite knowing absolutely nothing definitive about him other than that he speaks German.  But as is so often the case, the element that catches me by surprise in its provocativeness for me is Wimpy Boy.  He may be a Wimpy Boy (I’m beginning to suspect he’s definitely not), but he’s definitely a stud who persistently catches my eye and turns me on.  30 seconds left in the video, he’s watching up close as SMG spits on his arms again.  One last time, the German pleads for him to open wide and taste his god.  SMG backs up, shoving that gorgeous bulge into his face, and playfully asks if Wimpy Boy is ready to take the next step.  “Wanna lick!?” SMG probes.  Determined, with a defiant grin on this face, Wimpy Boy adamantly and immediately states, “No.”  SMG laughs again.  “Train him, bit by bit,” SMG promises.  “He… will… do it!”

“Wanna lick?!”

Let’s keep working on him, SMG.  I predict you can wear him down into total submission, or you possibly could awaken a surprisingly fierce twink badass.  Either way works for me.

“Train him, bit by bit.”

Oh, and two words: baby oil.
Oh, and three more words: wear your glasses.

Best of…

wrestlebard10 Comments

The best of BG East in 2012 poll results have been posted.  Joe’s also posted a summary of the winners,  implying that he and the popular vote may have parted ways at several points.  Same for me, I think.  Honestly, I can’t remember who I voted for in several categories, despite the fact that I voted just a few days ago.  It’s probably the remnants of my anti-inflammatory and pain meds working their way out of my system.

Sexiest  Match: StripStakes 3 – Morgan Cruise vs Damien Rush
I do like numbers though, and I’m happy to see a few more data points available than just who won. For example, Morgan Cruise’s rip ‘n strip ‘n force to cum rookie welcome of Damien Rush in StripStakes 3 scored the trophy for sexiest match in 2012, but check the stats.  The match I voted for, Cage Thunder and Lightning Rod’s insanely sexy 2-on-1 destruction of achingly adorably Stinger in Masked Mayhem 9 was just 1 percentage point behind.  I think the heat of this competition deserves seeing Cage Thunder and Lightning Rod tag team once again, this time against Morgan and Damien!
Best Mat Battle: Matie Rookies Eli Black v Jake Jenkins

I was with the herd in selecting best mat battle.  Jake Jenkins and Eli Black’s Mat Rookie confrontation is a match I think will stand the test of time.  And it was 20 percentage points ahead of 2nd place!  When we do a best of the best vote for the next decade anniversary or 100th catalog of BGE, I think Jake and Eli could contend for the title against a broader field.

Best Ring Match: Babyface Brawls 2 Austin Cooper v Cameron Matthews
I can’t remember for certain, but I think my vote for best ring match went with runner-ups Jonny Firestorm and Jake Jenkins in Jobberpalooza 12: The Works, rather than category winners Cameron Matthews and Austin Cooper for Babyface Brawl 2.  I wouldn’t argue with that outcome at all, really, even though just 5 percentage points separated 1st and 2nd place.  I thought that was a very competitive category with several very worthy contenders.

Top Babyface: Jake Jenkins
For best babyface, I think I again went with the herd in picking winner Jake Jenkins who pulled it out by 6 percentage points over Austin Cooper.  There are extremely fierce fans in both of these boys’ camps, so I’m not surprised they rose to the top.  I’m sort of pleased that of the two, Jake topped Coop.

Top Heel: Jonny Firestorm

Honestly, I just can’t remember who I voted for top heel, but it could have been winner Jonny Firestorm who beat out equally likely candidate I may have voted for, Kid Karisma, by 11 points.  Since there was no category for most mindblowing forearms (next year, people!), I’m glad Jonny tucked this one under his belt.

Best Squash: Jopperpalooza 12: The Works Jonny Firestorm v Jake Jenkins
Best squash was not close at all, but I sided with the 17% of decisively swung for Kid Karisma’s gorgeous, sexy beatdown on Skip Vance in Mat Mayhem 23 rather than category winner Jonny Firestorm and Jake Jenkins for Jobberpalooza 12: The Works.  I’m glad The Works got a shout out somewhere in the poll results, though.  And the writing was on the wall, really, with Jake voted top babyface and Jonny voted top heel!

Jobber of the Year: Rio Garza
Jobber of the year went to fan favorite Rio Garza by 9 percentage points over my pick, Skip Vance.  Rio’s got an extremely loyal and not infrequently aggressive (to the point of rude) fan base that makes this result unsurprising to me.  For my tastes, however, Skip is much more a classic jobber and entertaining sell.  Rio’s awfully entertaining to watch job, too, though.

Debut of the Year: Eli Black
Again, I think was with the herd in picking Eli as the best debut of 2012 by 12 points over Damien, though this could easily have gone a different direction and I’d have been entirely on board.  It feels like Eli’s been at BG East for years and years, which suggests to me why this was, as Eli would be happy to tell you, his year!

Best Spotlight Release: Wrestler Spotlight: Austin Cooper
Best spotlight release feature was an 11 point spread between Eli and category winner Austin Cooper.  While this doesn’t surprise me, and if I were a betting man I’d have put money down and made money back on this outcome, I placed my vote for last place winner Denny Cartier because his Leopard’s Lair 4 anchor position was fucking AWESOME, and essentially 4 barnburner and brutal bouts for the price of 2.  I love, love, love me some Denny Cartier and one of my fondest wishes for 2013 is to see him tap into a nasty streak and headline a new category for next year’s voting: best heel turn!

Best Abs: Eli Black
Best abs was a surprisingly (to me) narrow victory of 2 points by Eli over Jake.  What makes for “best” when it comes to bodies and their parts is, obviously, subjective, however my vote went for Lon Dumont by a mile and a half.  At the risk of pissing off Eli, I just have to say Eli’s phenomenal 8-pack seems to me to be about 60% conditioning and 40% mass, whereas Lon’s anatomy chart abdominals (the whole pacakge: serratus, obliques, abdomini) are a more aesthetically balanced and all around stunning beauty.  I don’t begrudge Eli’s victory at all, mind you, but I just shake my head and contemplate my vast distance from the herd when I see that Lon placed last.  For me and my tastes, I think this calls for a Lon v Eli gut bash in 2013.

Best Bulge: Mr. Joshua Goodman
I was, however, right in the middle of the pack in voting for best bulge winner (by 4 points) Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!), who slapped down his junk to power hit past Gabriel Ross’ anaconda.  There wasn’t one candidate in this field that couldn’t easily own the title, and I’d go so far as to say that this year was a bumber crop of mountainous packages. Now the task for 2013 is for one of those club boys that he likes to take home and challenge to wrestle for the chance to put Mr. J on his knees, to literally shock the pants off of Mr. J and finally, finally, finally unleash the beast within.  I guarantee I’ll buy three copies of that release!

Best Butt: Kid Karisma
Best butt was a horse race between category winner Kid Karisma and 2nd place finisher (by a nose) Cameron Matthews.  While we can’t go wrong with any of the contenders for this title, I’m happy to admit I voted for and was campaign chairman for Kid K’s glorious glutes to grab this title.  Again, I say, the ferocity of this competition clearly warrants a Kid K v Cameron rip ‘n strip ring battle to be decided by who makes whom kiss his ass. I’ll pay a premium for a front row seat to that one!

Best Body: Rio Garza
Best body again revealed the distance between me and the herd, with Rio Garza taking the title by 4 points over 2nd place Austin Cooper.  Arguably, this could be the most subjective of all of these wildly subjective categories, because what bodies turn us on follow such divergent tastes in bodies among wrestling fans.  If this were strictly about physical conditioning and muscle mass, the 2 bodybuilders at the bottom of the heap, Magnus and my choice Lon Dumont, could have easily vied for the top spots.  Again, this line of reasoning makes my loins ache to see Magnus and Lon in a head-to-head catchweight ring match of bodybuilding beauties.  However, 21% of fans preferred the body of beautifully proportioned, lickably smooth Rio, which I get, despite my tastes drawing me strongly elsewhere.

Hottest Liplock: X-Fights 34 Gabriel Ross and Drake Marcos
The final category placed me back among the masses in selecting the blazingly hot X-Fights 34 match between Drake Marcos and Gabriel Ross, obliterating the competition with 54% of the vote!  Truth be told, I could easily be tempted to swing for the incredibly sexy and, yes, I’ll say it, wrestling romantic liplock that Enforcer slapped on Maskador in Masked Mayhem 10 as the ripped hunk hung battered and helpless in a tree of woe, halfway to being entirely unmasked.  I admit it: I’ve also gotten off to that scene from Spiderman where Tobey Maguire hangs upside down, his masked half pulled off, as his co-star sucks hero face.  Gorgeous fantasy!  But holy hell, the heat generated by Drake and Gabriel could heat Reykjavik for year!
What a year!  BG East pieced together an incredible collection of outstanding homoerotic wrestling, and all of the nominees and the entire catalog of 2012 releases deserves all this and much more credit.  Nicely done, gentlemen! 

Enjoy

wrestlebard1 Comment

There are less than 12 hours for you to register your votes in BG East’s Best of 2012 poll, so get to it!  My last post, urging you to fulfill your civic duty and vote, generated some consternation from a couple of folks concerned about my electioneering.  I hear your concern, and I respect it.  But I humbly point out, this isn’t rocket science.  Have some fun with it, my friends.  Campaign for your favorites.  Enlist random friends to sign up and stuff the ballot box with your slate of picks.  Lighten up and enjoy.  It’s homoerotic wrestling, after all, and if there’s anything that should guide us in reflecting on it, it’s enjoyment.

Rio’s Bad Day: Nominee for Best Spotlight Release of 2012

More to the point, we the electorate can’t really go wrong in this one.  Unlike national elections for public office, it’s not like there’s any one potential candidate who could rip apart the fabric of civil society.  To assist, not to campaign, let’s take a look at the nominees for best abs as they appeared in 2012 releases.  Seriously, there is no “wrong” choice to be made (and you can select a write-in candidate).  So have at it!

And the nominees for Best Abs of 2012 are…

Eli Black
Austin Cooper
Alexi Adamov
Lon Dumont

Jake Jenkins 

Your Civic Duty

wrestlebard5 Comments
There’s no category for most phenomenal forearms, but you can vote for Jonny Firestorm as  Best Heel of 2012.

I’m still recovering from a wrenched neck, but I wanted to broadcast loud and clear your moral imperative to vote in the currently (and briefly!) running, first ever (I believe), BG East year-end review fan poll.  We have 14 categories to vote for our favorites of the 2012 BG East releases, and the decisions are brutal, I tell you!  I just submitted my ballot, and I found it seriously tough to pick from the extremely fine field of contenders.  The Best Bulge category alone took me about 20 minutes to painstakingly research, because how do you decide between the pendulous packages of Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!), pretty Pete Sharp, Jobe Zander, Dylon Roberts, and Gabriel Ross!?  I don’t want to unduly influence the democratic process, so I’ll try to refrain from telling you who to vote for (though, seriously, people, check out my first day of Christmas present before you register your vote for Best Butt!).

For your consideration: Kid Karisma is up for Top Heel and Best Butt

This blog is also abundantly quoted in the year end celebration from BG East in which they announced the poll.  I feel like I say it a lot, but it bears repeating, the boys at BG East (both in front of and behind the cameras) are true friends of neverland, not just because they produce the top tier homoerotic wrestling products available, but also because they indulge me with permissions to use their copyrighted materials.  And most importantly, they’re just good guys… generous, understanding, and having just as much fun making these wrestling fantasies happen as you and I enjoy consuming them.  Whoever comes out on top of the polls, BG East is chocked full of winners in my book.

Lon Dumont is nominated for Top Heel, Best Abs, Best Butt, AND Best Body!

Now go vote, because polls close this Sunday, January 20, midnight EST.  And if you do want me to tell you who to vote for, just ask.

Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month6’6

wrestlebard1 Comment

I wrenched my back a few days ago and have been in constant pain ever since.  I suspect it was a combination of that last spill off of Ben Godfre’s skateboard and my fireman’s carry of the pretty boy up the stairs to tie him to the bed.  I’ve had a ton of things to write about, but I’ve just felt too miserable to bother.  Clearly, I’m not as young and resilient as I used to be/think I am.  The pain is subsiding as I promise myself to get back to my yoga routine once I’m entirely healed, so I’m back to finally get down to business long overdue: naming the first homoerotic wrestler of the month for 2013.  The winner of the title is, of course, the wrestler who appeared in a December release who turned me on more than any other.  Nominees this month are relatively sparse.  No new catalog from BG East.  Rock Hard Wrestling posted two hot matches: Ethan Andrews putting a Bodybuilder Beatdown on luscious muscleboy Brodie Fisher, and Austin Cooper tying lovely muscle punk Josh Steel up in knots as Coop’s Conquest.  I’m still not tracking exactly when Thunder’s Arena releases their matches (if for no one’s sake but mine, I wish they put out release dates!).  However, I believe Big Sexy and Angelo’s match in No Holds Barred 26 was a December release, as was (I think) Bodybuilder Battle 55 with huge Johnny Bravo and mouthwatering Python as well as Mat Wars 33 with Big Sexy putting Python on gorgeous display.  And if they were December releases, then surely No Holds Barred 27 with Dominic and Angelo, Bodybuilder Battle 56 with Johnny back to devour Tak, and Mat Wars 34 with ripped Braden taking on equally ripped Brad Barnes are as well.  Muscle Domination Wrestling, the new kids on the block, posted Morgan Cruise (with facial hair) reworking over big farmboy Tony Law in Sweaty Stud Contortion, and a members-only match with Morgan reasserting his corporal ownership of Damien Rush’s balls in Sexual Domination.  Steel Muscle God and his Britboy wrestling hookup, Connor, qualified with a novelty beatdown on a frighteningly skinny kid who goes by “Slim Studman.”

Top-notch wrestling that tweaks my personal kink was not well represented in the depth of this field in December.  However, there were a couple matches that stood out for me as particularly eye catching, and one wrestler in particular that sold me more satisfyingly than any other this time around.  Better late than never, my new reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month is…

6′, 205 lbs: aptly named Big Sexy

…Thunder’s Arena’s Big Sexy.
I had to check 3 times to convince myself that this is the first HWOTM title for Big Sexy, because somehow that just doesn’t seem possible.  He lives up to his name in such a literal way!  How he’s failed to grab hold of the title with both hands before now is a mystery.

In this particularly attention grabbing case, his opponent is a guilty pleasure of mine. Python is such a mouthwatering muscle stud!  Those insane biceps are nothing short of phenomenal, but I have to say it’s Python’s massive muscle glutes that I’m a little obsessed with.  This kid desperately needs to loosen up, but if this were an award for eye candy of the month, this entire post could easily be about bicep boy.  As it is, though, the title is homoerotic wrestler of the month, and in that foot race, gorgeous Big Sexy leaves his “little” opponent in the dust.  But the journey is delightful to watch!

That…. ASS!
The opening camera angle is of Big Sexy, from behind, staring out the window waiting impatiently for the eye candy to arrive.  This is a stroke of directing genius, my friends, because as much as I’d like to sink my fingertips into Python’s luscious ass, I’d like to fall on my knees and worship the astonishingly sexy ass of Big Sexy.  His glutes make me gasp every time I see them.  It’s a sculpted ass of pure muscle.  My guess is that Big Sexy’s genetics, unlike Python’s, don’t afford him a platinum ass by default.  Without having pumped out endless squats, I would guess that Big Sexy’s booty would be flat as a board.  Thankfully, Big Sexy has, obviously, pumped out those endless squats, building muscle fiber by muscle fiber a powerhouse ass to make me desperate to grab him by the hips and plow that moneymaker for a decade.
Personally, I’d settle for googling all over how awesome Big Sexy is.

Python tries to smack talk way, way, way out of his league when he criticizes Big Sexy’s trunks (“Am I wrestling a watermelon!?”) and his body (“Big Sexy?  Little!”).  “I’m also six feet tall,” Big Sexy snaps back.  “What are you?  5’1?… You’re like a midget, man!”  They do some side by side comparisons of their guns, along with some appraising squeezes.  Big Sexy suddenly turns to the camera and pleads, “What are you all doing to me!? I wanted someone to wrestle, not… google all over how awesome I am!  Look at this!  This is Big Sexy!  I’m here… all day.”

“You’d better not be flexing!”

About a third of a second after the wrestling starts, Big Sexy is mounted across Python’s muscled back, slapping him in the back of the head humiliatingly.  In classic Big Sexy fashion, for every one part physical domination, he mixes in a heaping helping of two parts verbal domination.  “I wonder how much your bicep would take before I break it?” he murmurs, locking Python’s veiny python outstretched vulnerably.  Python huffs and puffs like a steam engine, trying to power his way to freedom, while calm, cool, collected mat veteran Big Sexy exerts absolutely no more effort than absolutely necessary to keep the muscle kid compromised.

Big Sexy is a fan pleaser, first and foremost.

With Python’s face smashed into the mat and Big Sexy controlling him handily with a simple half nelson, Big Sexy slides toward the camera and smiles at his fans. “You see, guys,” he says, pointing at his beautiful torso, “I work on these abs for you.  It doesn’t matter what he’s doing over there,” he dismisses the steam engine muscle punk huffing away in a vain attempt at escape.  “Don’t even look over there.  This is it,” he crunches his abs and flexes his left bicep. “This is perfection.”

Big Sexy leaves his muscle punk opponent nowhere to go but down.

There’s a truly gorgeous moment early on when Python launches an offensive, locking up Big Sexy’s left leg and neck in a muscle-encased small package.  With stunning control, Big Sexy rolls the kid over, breaks free his leg, an reverses, not only wrapping Python up in a tit-for-tat musclelocked small package, but then standing up and parading him around upside down and folded in half.  Holy hell, that’s both impressive and incredibly hot!

“Kiss it.  Kiss it!”

As with most Thunder’s matches, there’s a heavy hit of screwing around, friendly bullying in this match.  For example, channeling my older brother from my early childhood, Big Sexy nearly rips Python’s left leg out of his pelvis in a vicious small package, and then forces Python to kiss his own knee… just because he can.  “See, just do what I want!” Big Sexy explains.  “Things’ll go better for you.”

Tragically, I can’t find this perfect move in the video!

This is technically not a squash, I suppose.  At least, Python has some offense and some superhuman strength to hoist his much larger opponent over his shoulders.  There’s a still from Thunder’s Arena of a shot of the Sexy One suffering just a bit in the most appropriate hold ever placed on Big Sexy: a reverse bearhug (though I swear I can’t find this hold in the match itself).  A little more grinding of his crotch into that infinitely fuckable ass and this could easily morph from frat house hijinks into full on, explicitly homoerotic fare.   In a sweet moment of promise for Python, he force feeds Big Sexy a deviled egg as he has the Sexy One’s trapped solidly in a side headlock.

“Not so tough down there, huh, are you?”

But honestly, Python comes across little more than a gym bunny learning that eye candy is not the same as wrestling dominance.  Big Sexy stretches his boy’s muscled body out gorgeously, both toying with the kid and demonstrating his commitment to his fans by showing off his captured prey.  At will, he rolls Python’s shoulders flat on the mat. “Not so tough down there, huh, are you?” he mutters effortlessly as the muscle kid continues to huff and puff in pain.

“Decent,” Big Sexy concedes.

Demonstrating his complete control of the moment, he abruptly calls off the action and explains that he needs to chat with his fans.  With dialogue successful in both welcoming muscle worship and withering the ego of his opponent, Big Sexy flexes his sweat soaked body as he towers over the camera.  “Go ahead, you can show what you think you have.  They might want to see something like that,” Big Sexy sounds doubtful as Python pumps his mountainous right bicep at the camera.  “Everyone’s got a market.  Twinks sell pretty well, you’re doing okay.”  Python, of course, is no twink.  He has more muscle mass in one tricep than a bona fide twink has in his entire body.  But then again, Big Sexy probably has more muscle mass in one quad than Python has in both his legs.  Big Sexy is not easily impressed.  “Decent, I’ll give you that,” he mutters, his praise more damning than outright contempt.

Crushing his opponent alive, Big Sexy shows off that gorgeous ass and gives his fans a wink.

He is unquestionably big and sexy.  His mat wrestling is stunning, even when he’s going easy on a flat footed rook.  He sweats with the best of them.  His trash talking is top tier.  And most enjoyably of all for me, particularly in this match, Big Sexy knows, appreciates, and is out to please his fans, with more than a nod and wink, showing off his own fantasy muscle body as well as displaying his muscle punk opponent’s eye candy deliciously.  I’m sure it’s long overdue, but then again, it’s about time he shaved off that nasty ass beard, finally pulling it together for a performance that solidly convinces me that there’s just no other choice to be made.  Big Sexy is my reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month.

Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month: Big Sexy

Cleaning House – 2013

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I’ve been imagining fashion model Ben Godfre as a top shelf homoerotic wrestling god and behind-the-scenes power hitter for years.  One glance at his Timoteo underwear shots and I was hooked.  Of course, my imagination transported him into a high stakes homoerotic wrestling universe in which Ben is the first in line among equals comprising the ranks of executive assistants to a post-apocalyptic titan who rules the world with the simple rule that the most arousing homoerotic wrestling performances are what really matters in the entertainment industrial complex. In the Producer’s Ring in which this fictional version of Ben resides, the only audience that really matters is the gay wrestling kink audience.
In a further blurring of the lines between my fondest homoerotic fantasies and real life, 2012 saw the announcement that Ben Godfre was leaving behind the world of between the lines innuendo and dipping his suckable right big toe in the gay porn world.  I know, you’re thinking I’m delusional, and that my over-achieving erotic imagination has finally made me lose the ability to distinguish between fantasy and fact. You’re wrong (this time).  Ben not only signed a contract with Raging Stallions/Falcon Studios, he wrote, directed, and starred in his own solo porn production successfully released last month.  My friends, this is starting to line up very nicely with the wildly successful career path I pictured for Ben three years ago in my fiction!  Coincidence?  Most likely.  Then again…*
Oh My Godfre – Ben Godfre classes it up at Falcon Studios
When the doorbell rang at about 6 pm on New Year’s Eve, the surprise wasn’t that Ben Godfre was standing on my doorstep.  His agent called ahead to let me know to expect him and his posse of skater boy fashion models planning on co-opting my place to do their New Year’s Eve damage.  No, the surprise was that there was no “posse.”  There was just this stunningly handsome, six-foot stud, milky hazel eyes, mussed dark brown hair, painted on black jeans, tank top.  Now, to clarify, I wasn’t disappointed, of course.  Just surprised.  “Where’s the posse?” I asked, my voice cracking just a little.

He looked away, pulled up his shirt (showing off that gorgeous torso), and pulled down the front of his extremely low-rise black denim.  His lovely trouser snake slid partway out, already semi-erect.  “Oh! there it is. Please come in,” I immediately replied.
“So, what do you want to do?” I asked, looking around at the mountain of alcohol and finger foods I’d laid out for “the posse.”  “Strip gin rummy?” my handsome guest replied.  Fuck, yes! I thought to myself. The chance to actually beat the pants off of Ben Godfre!?

Fuck me if 30 minutes later I was in nothing but my briefs, while the 6-foot fashion model porn boy still had everything but his socks on.  Godfre plays a mean game of gin rummy!  I was a little self-conscious about showing so much skin in front of the chiseled physique of my guest.  I mean, I’m in shape, but I’m no Ben Godfre.  But for a ridiculously gorgeous male model, Ben’s surprisingly engaging and a witty conversationalist, and he put me quickly at ease.  We chatted about various topics.  His career path was foremost on my mind, but Ben was a little coy about talking much about the porn-turn.  “It’s hot,” was pretty much all he’d say.  “I’m having fun with it.”

“Damn, that looks a lot more comfortable,” he said, putting down yet another 2-card draw gin (fuck, he’s got all the luck!).  By rights, it was my turn to lose my briefs, but Ben waved it off.  I get the impression that hanging around in his underwear is where Ben feels most at home.  So discarding the card game, he peeled out of his jeans, plugged in house music from his iPod, and gave me a little private dirty dancing routine.  When he started lap dancing, I was already staining my CKs with pre-cum.  That ass, sliding up and down my lap… happy new year, indeed.

I was ready to lose all self-control then and there, but Ben tugged me out of my chair (briefs at full staff), and asked me if I skateboard.  My answer (“not for that past 30 years”) earned a crotch-warming grin from the tattooed pretty boy in front of me.  He pulled out his skateboard (not euphemistically… this time) and made a few laps around my place.  I experienced only a moment of angst about my hardwood floors, but watching his nearly naked muscles flex and stretch as he flew gracefully around my furniture was… well, it was like nothing I’d ever experienced before.  He made me show him what I’ve got, which was mostly falling on my ass.  Ben insisted on giving me a lesson (note to self: bend your knees and lean into it is excellent advice for so many life activities!).  I felt stupid for a bit.  Old.  Uncoordinated.  But damn it all if some hands-on tutorial from a smiling Ben Godfre can’t bust right through my self-consciousness.

It was Ben’s idea to play some 1-on-1 quarters, too.  Last time I played quarters was only about 20 years ago, so I was marginally more skilled at that than skateboarding.  Godfre, on the other hand, is, as seemingly with everything, brilliant at it. We played with shot glasses of tequila.  I averaged about 3 out of 4, which would’ve blown my old fraternity brothers out of the water 20 years ago.  Godfre, however,  made about every 9 of 10.  I was doing shots at about three times the frequency he was.  I was a mess well before midnight arrived, while he was (as clearly as I can remember) steady as a rock.  Again, I had every reason to feel inadequate and a squanderer of a lifetime opportunity to get a male model turned porn star drunk.  And yet, Ben was charming and disarming.

Midnight came and went, but it was a bit of a blur on my end.  I seem to remember toasting the New Year mutually naked with insanely delicious cosmos he made for us (yet another thing the kid excels at).  There was more skateboarding, but I think it was almost entirely him doing the boarding with me just watching his naked gorgeousness rolling around me.

I woke up late on the 1st in my own bed and, tragically, alone.  Remember, this was right in the middle of my 12 days of Christmas presents, and so even a little dehydrated (I don’t get hangovers), I went to the tree first to find Mason Brook’s nipples delivered via Santa.  “What’s that?” The voice seemed to come from nowhere.

It was Ben, flat on his back on the floor with his feet on the couch where he slept the night/morning.  I grabbed us both glasses of water and then explained the whole homoerotic wrestling Christmas wish list thing.  I showed him the pics of Mason to illustrate the idea.  “Nice nipples!” he said unprompted (I swear).  I agreed, of course.  “What’s he like when he wrestles?”

I started describing Mason’s debut match with Blaine Janus, focusing on Mason’s surprising readiness to get down and dirty for a rookie, but then caught myself a minute into the match description.  “I’ve got it upstairs,” I said.  “Let me pop it in the DVD player, and you can see for yourself.”

Ben liked what he saw.  A lot.  In fact we spent the next three hours sampling from my rather extensive collection of homoerotic wrestling videos.  Ben was fully erect and gently stroking his pornboy cock almost the entire time.  Surprising trivia (at least for me) included that he was not nearly as into Brad Rochelle, Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!), or Jake Jenkins as much as I am.  On the flip side, he was fucking crazy for Kid Vicious, Kid Karisma, and Rusty Stevens.  It was after he sampled about 5 minutes worth of Rusty’s match with Mitch Colby that Ben abruptly turned to me and said, “Fuck, let’s wrestle!”

To recap, I had a 6-foot, muscle sculpted, gorgeously inked, magnetic eyed, naked, and erect fashion model turned porn star on my couch insisting that we wrestle.  You do the math.

It started with Ben wanting to experience some of the holds we watched on DVD.  He asked for a reverse bearhug like the one Mitch Colby worked on Rusty in their match.  Now I’m considerably shorter than Ben and not nearly as strong as Mitch, but I’m not ashamed to say that I did okay.  The porn kid was groaning and flailing, and when I slid my cock between his skater boy thighs, he gasped, “Oh, fuck!”  He requested a figure-4 choke ala Kid Karisma’s finisher against lovely, lanky Christian Taylor.   He did not have to ask me twice, I assure you.  And he polished his pulsing rod like crazy the closer I got to choking him out cold.  But things really started getting interesting when he whispered he wanted a Kid Vicious-style OTK backbreaker.  I scooped him up, paraded him around the living room a while to let his vulnerability sink in, and then slammed him across my knee, pinning his naked body there racked backward over my thigh.  And I thought he was fully erect before!  Holy fuck, that juicy whopper bouncing and swaying as he moaned, head hanging upside down, was mind blowing!  There was never a chance in hell that mouthwatering meat was not going to end up in my mouth (a la, KV), which seemed to take Ben by surprise at first.  He jerked, seemed to even protest a moment.  But my hand shoving him down by his throat and my mouth working his cock like a Hoover settled him right back down.  A lot more moaning, but he took it like a pro.

After I had my fill with him draped over my knee, I dumped his gorgeous body unceremoniously to the floor and stepped on his face, pinning him to the hardwood and flexing (just to give him the full effect of a homoerotic wrestling humiliation).  That’s when he suddenly yanked my foot out from underneath me and dropped my ass to the couch.  The “let’s try that hold” game was officially over and done with, and an intense session of competitive tussling took it’s place.  To be sure, this kid is a trained athlete with very impressive strength, lightning reflexes, and superhuman balance.  When he slapped on a tit-for-tat revenge bearhug, I had a moment of panic that not all of my ribs were going to get out of this in tact.  But having been humiliated by this adonis at gin rummy, indoor skateboarding, and quarters, I finally found something I’m better at than Ben Godfre.

The kid had no idea what to do about a pec claw, and what hot hunks of meat he has to claw!  I literally made him cry, dragging him up off his knees to his feet with my fingers sunk deep into his pectoral muscles.  I mean, actual tears streamed out of the corners of both of those gorgeous eyes!  Holy shit, that was pure magic.

A stump puller stretched the lovely skate punk out beautifully, the back of his head resting on my fully erect cock as I held onto his right ankle and stretched the naked puppy’s hamstring out until it actually quivered.  First, let me just clarify that Ben keeps his ass trimmed, but he’s not shaved smooth.  Very nice.  Second, let me just reiterate that his right hamstring quivered, jerking and jumping like a trapped animal.  He screamed that submission with total panic in his voice.  Damn, that was sweet!

He scored one submission on me.  I took an inadvertent (I think) knee to the temple, making my head spin.  When it stopped spinning, the punk had me folded over on my back, my ankles trapped in his armpits and his pulsing cock pinning my face (he like that move from Kid Karisma).  Sure, I submitted.  After about 10 minutes.

But the rest of New Years 2013 was all Bard, baby!  A standing abdominal stretch showed off my opponent’s muscled body so beautifully, but the tough son of a bitch wouldn’t submit in it… until I reached around with my free hand and crushed his balls.  Technically, I’d say there were about 5 submissions in that hold (“IsubmitIsubmitIsubmitIsubmitIsubmit!!!!!!!”).  Pulling a page out of a titan that both Ben and I appreciated together, I threatened to rip his gorgeously tattooed right arm apart at the elbow, trapped between my thighs.  Paying homage to Rusty Stevens, I not only made him submit there, but I also fucked with his head, alternately commanding him to stroke his cock and then stop stroking, working the kid up to a frothy lather completely under my control.

I dragged his gorgeous body on his hands and knees around the living room by a fistful of hair once he was pretty much wasted, swimming in his own sweat and broken in body and spirit.  Again, with a nod to Rusty, I made my fashion model pornboy give me a naked pony ride in total submission, steering him around the furniture with my finger fish hooks in the corners of his mouth.  When I slid my hips forward and tucked my cock between his ass cheeks, the bad boy of fashion actually whimpered.  The horse cock hanging from between his legs as he carried me another lap around the couch made it clearly evident that I wasn’t the only one enjoying the moment.

The kid is a trooper, I tell you, and I think he could easily fulfill almost every ounce of the homoerotic wrestling fantasy I wrote for him starting three years ago.  He’s every bit as hot as hell as he looks.  He could charm a cobra with those hypnotically intense eyes.  He’s an incredible athlete.  And more to the point, he’s got a taste for the erotic power of wrestling kink… now.

Other assets Ben Godfre has to recommend him further into the gay fetish scene and, particularly, solidly into our camp?  He knows how to be slack-jaw-dominated and to work up a head of steam every step of the way.  He takes a bare handed ass slapping session like a pro.  He gets only harder when tied up.  He tastes like honey, and he has the stamina of a marathoner.

He also makes a killer fry up in nothing but an apron.  Holy shit, this guy is a Renaissance man for the 21st century!  If this is the way 2013 starts, I think this is my year, without a doubt.  I’m on top of the world, kicking fashion model porn star ass, and recruiting homoerotic wrestling fetishists to our ranks.  And once Ben buffs the skateboard marks out of my hardwoods (naked), I’ll slap him on that gorgeous ass and send him back into the world with strict instructions to contact a couple of homoerotic wrestling producers to break into the scene that this kid was absolutely made for.  You can all thank me later.  Happy New Year, all.

*This is entirely a work of fiction, and I have no evidence that Ben Godfre, in fact, takes career advice from this blog or my homoerotic wrestling fiction.  But if he wants to, I’m ready to help.