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.

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas, Santa Brought to Me…

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On the first day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Kid Karisma’s picture perfect ass.

On the second day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Ben Monaco’s luscious, furry pecs.
On the third day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Steel Muscle God’s tree trunk thighs.
On the fourth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Skip and Christian’s wrestling romance.
On the fifth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Darius’ muscle-packed trunks.
On the sixth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Kid Vicious’ domineering sneer.
On the seventh day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Lon Dumont’s insanely ripped back.
On the eighth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Mason Brook’s intoxicating nipples.
On the ninth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Cage Thunder’s mouthwatering cock.
On the tenth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Drake Marcos’ wrestling kinked smile.
On the eleventh day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Jonny Firestorm’s gorgeously sculpted forearms.
“On the twelfth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me…”
The final wish I whispered into Santa’s ear felt like possibly the most daring fantasy of all.  I was incredibly fortunate to get to spend about half a day with a certain homoerotic wrestling god about a year and a half ago.  The master of the house, this iconic heel turned wrestling producer showered generous hospitality on me, showing me every corner of BG East headquarters where many of my fondest wrestling fantasies have taken place.  Near the end of my visit, he invited me to join him as he sat down at his computer and pulled up the unedited photos of the upcoming BG East catalog (Catalog 89).  I stood behind his chair, looking over he shoulder as he clicked through literally hundreds of pics, zipping past most, and then pausing to soak in a particularly titillating shot.  “Mmmmm,” he’d mutter appreciatively, “look at that!”  A photo of Mitch Colby’s hot muscled bod draped helplessly across the top turnbuckle, about to be battered by big Vlad Varek made my host groan and made my cock ache.  I got the first outside glimpse of masked mountain of muscle Magnus force feeding his monster cock to fellow rookie Surge, to the soundtrack of my host letting out a little gasp of pleasure as he paused on a shot from behind Magnus, dwarfing his opponent, as Surge’s hands worshipfully cupped Magnus’ massive glutes.  My host would fly through dozens of photos and then something would catch his eye, and when he paused on a shot long enough for me to soak it in, I’d see it.  A particularly sexy angle, a display of exquisitely tortured muscle, an incredibly hot grimace of agony or sadistic, sexy leer. His taste, his eye for what speaks most directly to my own homoerotic wrestling kink, was astonishing to witness, and his commentary as much as the graphics left me slightly dizzy and hard a rock.  With that memory crystal clear in my mind, I whispered to Santa, I want to see just a glimpse of what he sees.  And on the twelfth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me an entire collection of what catches the eye of the man who has pretty much defined my homoerotic wrestling kink, an astonishingly beautiful montage of moments directly from the desk of Kid Leopard.
Dawn breaks over the lake at BG East.
Skrapper rolls out of bed, ready for a day of wrestling
Drowsy Christian Taylor looks for breakfast, with pretty Pete Sharp in the background
“The irrepressible Lon Dumont” saddles up to the counter with his gorgeous recruit, pretty Pete Sharp
“Since you like bespectacled wrestlers,” the note from KL says, “here Nick Rush laces up beside a contemplative Lon Dumont prior to their match with Austin & Jake.”
Beauty, grace, power: Jake Jenkins takes to the air
Stunningly handsome and beautifully proportioned: All-American Austin Cooper

Bespectacled (thus extra hot) Lorenzo Lowe looks like the meat sandwiched between Jonny Firestorm and Kid Vicious
Lobolito watches as Drake texts illicit photos to neverland

Canadian Beef: The Boss included in his bundle of Christmas presents this never before seen (but much anticipated) preview of Ben Monaco and a new massive, hairy muscle beast due out in the next BG East catalog!
News Flash: Liam Ryan is bearded, bulked up, and ready for one of the most epic returns to BG East wrestling ever in 2013!

Did Kid Leopard’s eye for homoerotic wrestling mold my tastes, or does he simply have instinctive insight into what turns me on?  Either way, like Santa, Kid Leopard is an incredibly generous friend of neverland, and his generosity and genius continue to turn me on like nobody else can!

On the Eleventh Day of Christmas, Santa Brought to Me…

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On the first day of Christmas, Santa brought me an entire fashion show featuring the profound beauty of Kid Karisma’s world class ass. On the second day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Ben Monaco’s furry, flexing pecs. On the third day, Santa brought me Steel Muscle God’s mountainous legs. On the fourth day of Christmas, Santa brought me some steamy romance between Skip Vance and Christian Taylor. On the fifth day of Christmas, Santa brought me Darius’ astoundingly overstuffed trunks. On the sixth day of Christmas, Santa brought me Kid Vicious’ orgasm-inspiring sneer. On the seventh day of Christmas, Santa brought me the breath-stealing wingspan of Lon Dumont. On the eighth day of Christmas, Santa brought me the magic nipples of Mason Brooks. On the the ninth day of Christmas, Santa delivered the seductive unwrapping of Cage Thunder’s gorgeous package. And yesterday, Santa sent the handsome smile of the Cheshire Cat of Homoerotic Wrestling, Drake Marcos.  Just two days left before this song is over, and I just slept on the couch next to the skeleton of my former Christmas tree, anxiously anticipating what the big man would deliver today.

“On the eleventh day of Christmas, Santa brought to me…”
I had the overwhelming pleasure of sharing an unexpected meal with a certain iconic pro badboy of BG East about a year and half ago (actually several of them, but one in particular that is the subject for today).  The conversation was delightful and provocative.  The company was gracious.  But I repeatedly caught myself staring, infatuated with one certain body part of one of my hosts.  Santa knew exactly what I was talking about as I waxed lustful about that wildly distracted lunch, because this morning I found a made-to-order series of pics of the astonishingly erotic power and beauty of the incredibly massive and gorgeous forearms of none other than Jonny Firestorm.

This is not trick photography.  Jonny’s right forearm really is that big!

The left one is equally as stunning!

The shoulders, the biceps, the triceps… Jonny’s gorgeous from head to toe, but those mountainous, hairy forearms blow my mind!
Am I over-sharing if I report that this pic just made me cum? Ah well, it’s not the first time, now is it?

These shots take me right back to that lunch a year and a half ago as I struggled to stop staring at the wonders that are Jonny’s HUGE forearms!  And just like then, Jonny proves once again that he is both a stunningly hot object of lust as well as a genuinely generous and gracious hunk.  Thanks, Jonny (and Santa)!

On the Tenth Day of Christmas, Santa Brought to Me…

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On the first day of Christmas, Santa brought me a whole collection of treats to satisfy my obsession with Kid Karisma’s ass. On the second day of Christmas, he delivered Ben Monaco flexing his beautiful pecs. On the third day, Santa brought me Steel Muscle God flexing his rib crushing legs . On the fourth day I found underneath my tree ice melting romance between Skip Vance and Christian Taylor. On the fifth day of Christmas, Santa sent me Darius displaying an assortment of gorgeous gear stuffed with his muscles. On the sixth day of Christmas, Santa delivered Kid Vicious, sneering and punishing and promising more to come (and possibly my long awaited interview!). On the seventh day of Christmas, Santa brought me the insanely shredded back belonging to long-time infatuation of mine, Lon Dumont. On the eighth day of Christmas, Santa sent the eye-catching nipples of seductive new mat man, Mason Brooks. And yesterday, on the ninth day of Christmas, Santa dropped an entire storyboard worship-session devoted to the jaw dropping coup de grace of masked erotic wrestler Cage Thunder.  Santa’s got my homoerotic wrestling fantasies by the shorthairs, and never before have I had such an impulse to oil down a big, furry, bear daddy belly and shoot all over a white-haired saint.

“On the tenth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me…”

As regular readers know, my turn ons span a range of wrestlers, wrestling genres, body parts and builds.  It hardly needs explaining that the moment my ninth day of Christmas present whips out his power tool for an explosive victory finale that I’m nine tenths of the way there myself.  But just the impressive flex of a striated latissimu dorsi can give me a knee buckling surge, not to mention razor sharp trash talk or even a knowing wink at the camera.  But another newbie to the homoerotic wrestling scene this year reminded me that I’ve got a special hard spot reserved for wrestlers who clearly communicate that ripping off their clothes and going toe to toe with another barely clad battler turns them on!  I’ve seen more than my fair share of “homoerotic” wrestling that requires those quotation marks around the word “homoerotic” because the boys in question look a little bored and/or repulsed by the task at hand.  I’m not talking about the narcissist who can’t take his eyes off his own lovely image, or the snarling heel who looks infuriated by the mere sight of his prey daring to step into the ring, but rather the awkwardly flat footed combatant who looks embarrassed for himself, bored with his opponent at best and actively fighting his own impulse to run away from the open eroticism at worst.  On the flip side of that continuum is someone like who Santa brought to me this morning, and that irrepressible smile that has earned him the moniker of Cheshire Cat from me because that gorgeous teethy grin grows from ear to ear when he steps on the mat and sees a mountain of muscle flexing back at him.  He obviously loves homoerotic wrestling from the inside out, and that smile paired with the instant bulge in his trunks leaves no mistaking that this kid wants it every bit as much as I do.  That smile alone says it all, and straight from my whispered fantasies, on the tenth day of Christmas Santa brought to me that gorgeously kinked grin of charming newbie Drake Marcos.

From the first glimpse I got, I referenced Drake as “that handsome young man”

There’s a doe-eyed quality there, accentuated by the dimples, that disguise the lustful delight Drake demonstrated when he got his hands all over lovely Gabriel Ross.
I still say he and John Fugelsang need to rip ‘n’ strip wrestle as an erotic brother battle (then tag team).

Flat on his back, totally compromised, about to be humiliated, and you know by that irrepressible smile that he wouldn’t trade the moment for anything! 

Gorgeous, handsome, joyful, instantly aroused… Drake Marcos’ smile speaks directly to the wrestling kinkster inside of me.  He adorably indulged my wish list fantasy, and for that, he and Santa made this tenth day of Christmas extra hot!

On the Ninth Day of Christmas, Santa Brought to Me…

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I’m getting seriously worn out this Christmas season by the shocking generosity of a certain mature bear daddy in red and a whole lot of his sexy, homoerotic wrestling helpers who keep sliding erotic fantasies underneath my tree.  On the first day of Christmas, Santa brought me the aesthetic perfection of Kid Karisma’s ass. On the second day, he brought me Ben Monaco’s furry pecs flexing for me. On the third day of Christmas, Santa brought me Steel Muscle God showing off his new quad development . On the fourth day I found underneath my tree  some heart and crotch warming romance shared between the reigning royal couple of homoerotic wrestling, Skip Vance and Christian Taylor. On the fifth day of Christmas, Santa delivered Darius’ most beautiful bulges. On the sixth day of Christmas, Santa got me on the line with Kid Vicious, who delivered his patented sneer that never fails to make me pop.  On the seventh day of Christmas, Santa brought me the glorious, shredded V that is Lon Dumont’s beautifully muscled back. And yesterday, for the eighth day of Christmas, I received a series of shots of the magical nipples of seductive rookie and surprisingly nasty Southern boy, Mason Brooks.  I’ve got a knee to the groin for anyone who suggests there is no such thing as Santa, because that bearded belly boy has demonstrated without a doubt that he can produce!

“On the ninth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me…”
There are now more needles under my tree than on it, but I’ll be damned if it’s coming down for at least another 3 days.  Good thing, too, because to what did my wondering eye appear this morning beneath the mostly bare branches, but a heart-stopping erotic wish come true in the form of my #1 favorite masked wrestler sharing his most impressive muscle of all.  So sure, telling Santa I want an eyeful of the monster dick of a certain sexy veteran heel for Christmas felt like a risk.  But by the pressure rising from his lap as I sat there, I shouldn’t have been surprised at all to discover that for the ninth day of Christmas, Santa brought me a whole storyboard featuring the rising bulge and climactic unleashing of the legendary cock of none other than Cage Thunder.

Cage Thunder’s square cuts start to feel the strain

Speedos can barely contain him

A jock strap gorgeously frames him 

Cage Thunder poised for domination

CK briefs filled to capacity by a muscle straining for liberation
These bikini briefs are nearly bursting at the seams!
Cage Thunder’s cock emerges like it has in so many of my dreams!
Yes, Santa, yes, yes, yes!!!

Cage Thunder has pointed that gorgeous cock at the faces of so many lucky opponents, and for Christmas this year he pointed it right at me.  Once again, Santa comes through with stellar success, and once again I’m infinitely grateful for the generosity and bare naked beauty of Cage Thunder!

On the Eighth Day of Christmas, Santa Brought to Me…

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On the first day of Christmas, Santa brought me the work of art that is Kid Karisma’s ass.  On the second day, he brought me Ben Monaco’s beautiful, meaty pecs.  On the third day of Christmas, Santa brought me Steel Muscle God’s bone crushing legs.  The fourth day was the occasion for Santa to bring me a little of the romance between the reigning royal couple of homoerotic wrestling, Skip Vance and Christian Taylor.  On the fifth day of Christmas, he brought me a knee-buckling montage of every bulge that Darius attempts to squeeze into his trunks.  On the sixth day of Christmas, Santa hooked me up with the sexy sneer and a little inside scoop from the patron saint of homoerotic heels, Kid Vicious.  And yesterday, for the seventh day of Christmas, Santa brought me the aesthetically perfect superhuman back of competitive bodybuilder and pro wrestling fixture of my homoerotic wrestling fantasies, Lon Dumont.  Last night, for New Year’s Eve, things got crazy around Chez Bard as they do every year, but I’ll save that story for later. Because although my Christmas tree is now a major fire hazard, Santa came through once again with yet another homoerotic wrestling gift this morning!
“On the eighth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me…”
My introduction to a certain sexy, Southern grappler has been like some of the sweetest, teasing foreplay ever.  First, I heard oblique reference to him from my 2nd day of Christmas gift.  Ben Monaco mentioned some newbie “with nipples to die for.”  Then I saw pics of him in advance of his debut release this fall, and I found myself already aroused at the sight of this delicious fresh meat for the BG East boys.  Then I saw him wrestle in Gazebo Grapplers 14, and while “meat” was still on my mind, the seriously sexy, ball bashing delight this newbie took in dishing out every inch of dominating humiliation as his opponent, Blaine Janus, made me completely reevaluate the erotic allure of this surprisingly eager young stud as more than just fodder for heels.  Then I had the distinct pleasure of interviewing him, and his incredibly quick wit, his relish for erotic wrestling, and his eagerness to suck the marrow out of his breakout opportunities at BG East were an incredible turn on!  Oh, and those nipples… Santa, I said, those nipples keep appearing in my dreams.  I’d love some personal, up close mementos of those tasty nips!  And for the eighth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me none other than some accommodating iPhone pics of the delectable lean bod and especially the sexy pecs and nips of one of BG East’s newest erotic combatants, Mason Brooks. 
Is this a weird request, Mason?
“Frankly, I think it’d be weirder if you didn’t want a close up of my nipples,” he replied.

Mason Brooks looks so, so sexy in his winter pajamas… mattress wrestling, anyone?!

Mason slaps the goods down on the countertop and snaps a pic of the nipples that drive opponents (and me) to distraction.

My personal favorite in the collection, Mason’s bulging shoulders and those meaty pecs insulated for the winter’s cold. Santa rocks, and Mason Brooks continues to rise in my erotic fascination as both a hot bodied hunk and a sexy stud who seems game for just about anything.  Thanks in advance for the wrestling fantasies to come in 2013, Mason!

On the Seventh Day of Christmas, Santa Brought to Me…

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Honestly, I was not expecting my tenure on a big, bear daddy’s lap to be so productive (and I’m not talking about Santa’s unmistakable boner that he grew as I whispered my Christmas wish list in his ear).  For the first day of Christmas, big papa Nick brought me a photo shoot of Kid Karisma’s ass that still makes my knees buckle.  On the second day of Christmas, Santa brought me the big, furry pecs of Canuck rookie Ben Monaco flexing especially for me.  On the third day, he brought me the steel muscled legs of Steel Muscle God to enshrine and worship.  On the fourth day of Christmas, Santa brought me a little wrestling romance in the form of some tender moments shared between the lovely royal couple of homoerotic wrestling, Skip Vance and Christian Taylor.  On the fifth day of Christmas, he brought me a very mouthwatering bulge of muscles that Darius can’t quite squeeze into his gear.  And on the sixth day, Santa shocked the pants off of me (literally) by not only finally getting me in touch with Kid Vicious, who’s been in my sights for an interview for over 6 months, but also sending some late breaking insider news of upcoming KV releases as well as some of the choicest shots of that outstanding cum-inducing sneer on the Vicious One’s face! Clearly, I’ve been a very, very good boy, and if this sort of haul is what I get for just sitting on the big man’s lap, next year I’ll offer to polish his North Pole!  What else could make these 12 days of Christmas as titillating as the first 7?
“On the seventh day of Christmas, Santa brought to me…”
I had an instant and non-stop crush on a certain Nor’easter pro wrestler turned homoerotic ring god from the moment I saw the camera fade in on the sight of him flexing in the BG East ring in preparation for his first match with the company.  There’s not an inch on this man that fails to turn me on, and not an inch I wouldn’t like to see a whole lot more of!  But I have to admit, that afternoon at the mall that I sat on Santa’s lap, I had just seen Tag Team Torture 15 and drooled all over myself when I saw this certain competitive bodybuilder turn his back to the camera and flex his insanely shredded back as he nearly ripped the head off of his completely outmatched musclebunny face opponent.  With that toasty image fresh on my mind, I included on my wish list a little pro wrestling bodybuilder fix, and on the seventh day of Christmas, I found under my quickly shedding tree none other than the current top contender to spank my first day of Christmas present, showing off the anatomy chart of back that could belong to no one other than Lon Dumont!
First, a shot of Lon’s brutally striated back muscles on stage, tanned and oiled, and making the judges gasp.
Then an up close pic of of the superhuman proportions and conditioning that leave me quivering in a pool of body fluids.  These wings can fly, my friends, and this testament to fierce perseverance and a singular focus on physical perfection, when paired with the snarling, trash talking mouth and unparalleled sell of a seasoned pro wrestler, is what makes me president of the Lon Dumont fan club and devotedly grateful to Santa and Lon for making this particular wish come true!
And just because Lon is a outrageously generous as he is scorchingly hot, he also sent along this jaw dropping shot of his serratus and obliques to drain me that much drier.  Damn, I need a job as this man’s pro-tan applicator!
And in case you haven’t seen those luscious latissimus dorsi doing what they do best, here they are making musclebunny Jake Jenkins scream like a bitch in Tag Team Torture 15 (a MUST own, LD fans)!  POW!

On the Sixth Day of Christmas, Santa Brought to Me…

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The bear daddy in red and white has been hooking me up like never before in my life!  On the first day of Christmas, he brought me Kid Karisma’s picture perfect ass.  On the second day of the season, he brought me Ben Monaco’s flexed pecs.  On the third day, he brought Steel Muscle God’s mammoth legs.  On the fourth day, I had adorable Christian Taylor and Skip Vance under my tree.  And yesterday, it was every imaginable angle of Darius’ muscle-stuffed trunks!  But I had so much on my list this year…  So Santa, I said, I’ve been working for half a year to coax Kid Vicious into getting on the line with me and giving me an interview.  Good god, just one of his sneers in my general direction would make me pop my cork! 

“On the sixth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me…”
I’m officially a devotee of St. Nick now that I received both a couple of choice Kid Vicious sneers and a personal message from the Vicious One promising me that he’ll consider an interview in ’13… if it suits him.  And since I’m jonesin’ so hard for that magic that Kid Vicious does like absolutely no one else, he dangled the teaser that he’s about to appear in a brand new match in the upcoming BG East catalog.  Oh, and by the way, his message added, there are about to be 6 of his favorite matches featuring the Vicious One doing what he does best, including that orgasm-inducing sneer of those sexy lips, released as part of the massive New Year’s 50% off limited-time only sale!  Oh, holy night, so much world class wrestling heel!
Kid Vicious assures me that this lingering, humiliating head scissors on Steve Ranger is one of his favorites.  Fuck me, that sneer as he smothers another chump in his crotch is a gift that just keeps giving!

Kid Vicious also relishes this shot of Matt Thorne choking on KV’s balls as the Vicious One watches him whither with his gorgeous lips curled. Thanks so much Kid Vicious, and please, please, please let’s do an interview in 2013!

And just to give a sneak peak at some of KV’s classic beatdowns available for a song…
The smile on KV’s face means gorgeous Derek da Silva is wailing in Ball Bash 1, part of the New Year’s sale.

KV coated in sweat and puckering up in anticipation of getting serviced by another  victim: available for half off as Gloved Gladiator’s 3: Buddy’s Workout

When the lips just start to curl, the humiliation has only begun. Just ask Steven Thomas who took all KV can dish out in Gut Bash 5, part of the New Year’s sale.
When KV cracks that smile, somebody’s guaranteed to be in agony, like Zach Zilver in Bootboy Brawl 3: Punk Punishment (available for a limited time for 50% off!)
The New Year’s Sale includes Squared Circle 5: Heel Initiation.  Look at the satisfaction on those lips!

On Sale Now: X-Fights 27: The Rookie and the Heel, featuring KV’s lips mastering the situation from every angle.

On the Fifth Day of Christmas, Santa Brought to Me…

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To recap, on the first four days of Christmas a surprisingly game bear daddy of a Santa checked off 4 of my fondest Christmas wishes by bringing me crotch-warming candid pics of my very favorite assets of homoerotic wrestling favorites, namely Kid Karisma’s world class ass, Ben Monaco’s flexed, furry pecs, Steel Muscle God’s bone crushing legs, and a little wrestling romance shared between real life partners Christian Taylor and Skip Vance.  Santa’s readiness to fill my most lustful desires is turning me steadily into a hardcore mature bear daddy fan (at least seasonally)!  I was already adjusting my morning wood as I sprinted down the stairs this morning to find what Santa brought me for the fifth day of Christmas.  Oh, holy night of homoerotic wrestling wonders…!
“On the fifth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me…”
Frankly, I had struggled to nail down precisely which assets to ask for when I was whispering in Santa’s ear my hearts desire for some personalized pic fantasies of a certain “Magnificent Black Muscle God” who’s had his sights set on testing the mettle of my third day of Christmas gift.  What’s not to obsessively lust over!?  Finally, I just stammered, “Everything that he stuffs in his trunks.”  Santa nodded and winked like the knowing horndog he is, and this morning I discovered the big man set me up on this fifth day of Christmas with a montage of pretty much every angle of the most mouthwatering muscles of all stuffed inside a lovely variety of gear squeezed onto the pounding physique of BG East’s muscle star, Darius!
Tie a bow on that gorgeous purple-wrapped package!

Next Christmas I’m asking for the trunks!
The wrapping may change color, but that Yule Log remains stunningly gorgeous!
Holy fucking Christmas miracle!  Please, oh please Santa, next deliver those glutes sitting on the face of a wrestling opponent!!!
I have to think that should Darius show up in the BG East ring wearing this gear, he’ll bring opponents to their knees!

There is no angle from which Darius’ tastiest muscles fail to make me swoon!

The proportions on Darius bring a tear to my eye!
What a wondrous sight: Darius’ muscles laid out so vulnerably once an opponent has sleepered him out cold!

A special Christmas wish granted: a private wrestling pic of Darius massive bulge helplessly on display.
Darius is another new friend of this blog in 2012 who loves pleasing his fans nearly as much as he loves testing all of those massive muscles against a wrestling opponent.  And like Santa, Darius’ generosity blows me away with both lust and gratitude!  Hope to see much more of you in 2013, Darius!
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On the Fourth Day of Christmas, Santa Brought to Me…

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One of the sexiest fantasies come true for me in 2012 was the revelation that two of BG East’s wrestlers were, in real life, long-time lovers and partners.  Skip Vance and Christian Taylor won the reader’s poll as Mr. and Mr. Valentine’s Day Wrestling Couple of 2012 and really, was there any competition?  When I had the opportunity to interview Skip, he filled in additional dizzyingly hot details, including the fact that it was Christian who introduced Skip to homoerotic wrestling after they’d been dating a while.  The end of 2012 has been a rough one on these reigning royal couple of homoerotic wrestling, however, with a nasty flare up of Skip’s Crohn’s disease putting the champion jobber in the hospital for a serious surgery.  Today’s a banner day, however, both here at neverland and in the Taylor/Vance household.  It’s a banner today here at neverland because that horny toad bear daddy Santa came through with another wish on my Christmas list: some sweet pics from the lives of the hottest wrestling couple reigning.  It’s a good day in the Taylor/Vance household because Skip got to finally head home from his extended stay in the hospital, to be nursed back to health by what has to be just about the sexiest, tall drink of water to nurse a homoerotic wrestling lover back to health ever!
“On the fourth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me…”
So it seems like there are a lot of Christmas wishes getting fulfilled today.  Fans of the reigning royal couple of homoerotic wrestling who want to help retire Skip and Christian’s medical debt can make even more wishes come true by donating here.  And I’m incredibly happy for both Skip and Christian today, but I have to admit that I’m also very selfishly self-satisfied that on the fourth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me a few sweet glimpses into the off-the-mats world of the sexiest couple in homoerotic wrestling, Skip Vance and Christian Taylor.
You can fulfill your own Christmas wish by pre-booking with either or both of these boys for a wrestling match later in 2013!
Skip reports that he’d  much, much rather be getting tortured mercilessly by Jonny Firestorm than coping with the pain of another Crohn’s flare up.
Adorable Skip is ready to get back into his peak physical conditioning in order to return to the mats soon.
What a Christmas treat!  The reigning sexiest homoerotic wrestling couple ready to face down any challenge and all comers!  Santa, you rock, and Skip and Christian, I cannot wait to see the two of you work up a sweaty lather on the mats again in 2013!