Still-Frame Fantasies

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I’ve been working my ass off so hard that the month of May is pretty much a wash when it comes to my favorite past-time: checking out new homoerotic wrestling releases. I’m just throwing in the towel and putting an asterisk in the homoerotic wrestler of the month competition for May 2012. The throne will remain empty for the month.  I have a strong suspicion that there will be a new title holder once June has played out, however. BG East has released Catalog 93, and it’s packed with some of my long time fantasyman crushes as well as more recent infatuations, any one of which could (and most of them have) easily bitchslapped the competition and claim the title. I’m also entranced with the hotness of new Rock Hard wrestler Britboy Will Stanley landing just in time for the queen’s diamond jubilee. Only 5 days into the month and based solely on still-frame fantasies, here are the immediate front runners for June’s title.
Denny Cartier crotch pins Joah Bindao

Denny’s back! Just the photos alone of hot Denny Cartier can tide me over, and in his Gazebo Grapplers 13 appearance he’s looking tastier than ever. Those eyes, that smile, the dimpled chin, wide strong shoulders, gorgeous chest, luscious ass, strong legs, and look at those forearms… all of that and some of the highest quality grappling I love, and Denny could easily be a 2-time homoerotic wrestler of the month. And hot little muscleman Joah Bindao is definitely a rising stock.

Jake Jenkins threatens to dismember Jayden Mayne
Gazebo Grapplers 13 is catching me eye from start to finish, including Jake Jenkins looking possibly hotter than I’ve ever seen. Is it the trunks? Is it that hot, “monkey boy” body? Is it that his eyes looking like he’s about to carve into Thanksgiving turkey as he stares down handsome scrapper, Jayden?  Jake’s done it once and could easily do it again, wrestling his way into another homoerotic wrestler of the month title.
Joshua Goodman’s crotch might choke out Christopher Bruce!

And yet another Gazebo Grapplers 13 match is turning my crank in still-frame! Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!) could read the phone book and I’d be off before he got to Aanerud (as long as he’s in nothing but those skimpy white trunks)! I’ve never seen a Mr. Joshua match that fails to make me weak in the knees, and pitting him against perennial powerhouse and sexy thinker Christopher Bruce could easily propel either of these men into the lead.  It seems impossible that Mr. Joshua has not yet owned the title of homoerotic wrestler of the month. Could his Susan Lucci moment arrive in June?

Stinger in trouble from every angle!

My, oh my, Masked Mayhem 7 could be a superhero homoerotic wrestling fantasy for the record books! Lean, sexy Stinger’s partner doesn’t show up, and the brave masked man agrees to face both legendary heel Cage Thunder and his new tag partner, unmistakably menacing long, hard hottie Lightning Rod. Cage Thunder has yet to own the title of homoerotic wrestler of the month on these pages, but could this be the month on the strength of what looks like an astonishingly sexy, brutal double-team?

Skip Vance in agony under the control of Kid Karisma

Speaking of astonishingly sexy, the pairing of incredibly hot champion jobber, Skip Vance and my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler (non-pornboy division), Kid Karisma, has the potential to be epic! I’ve lobbied the boys at BG East for a long-overdue Wrestler Spotlight starring Kid K’s world class muscle ass! Skip hasn’t held the title, but Kid K was living large and in charge as homoerotic wrestler of the month 11 months ago. Either of these stunners could easily own it this month.

Fiercely hot newbie Diego Diaz launches Morgan Cruise
Neither Morgan Cruise nor newbie heartthrob Diego Diaz have held the homoerotic wrestler of the month title yet, but I could easily see their face-off for Morgan’s Spotlight earning one of them the distinction for June. Hurricane Morgan is like a force of nature lately, leveling every hot, hunky face placed in his way. And ripped, snarling, Latino powerhouse Diego has captured my imagination like no current newcomer. It’s a rare feat to be homoerotic wrestler of the month on the strength of just 2 matches, but the Latino giant could definitely make that happen.

Mitch Colby makes batboy Aryx Qinn pucker up
Mitch Colby has owned every title I could ever dream up. If Mitch and Diego Diaz were to ever tag team,   my life could very well be complete. In the mean time, his hairy chested, sweat soaked ring pounding with Aryx Quinn makes Mitch an instant contender for a 2nd trip to the winner’s circle.
Austin sweats through his jock while he shows off Patrick Donovan’s best side.

Austin Cooper is everywhere lately! For sheer ironman hotness (not to mention Goldenboy beauty and a top notch bubble butt) Austin is a contender for the title he has yet to possess. And Patrick Donovan is an instant contender, and I strongly suspect that Patrick has made a pact with Satan, because he’s done nothing but get sexier and more gorgeous with each and every match he’s wrestled in his long and lustrous career! That ass alone deserves a title, and he could absolutely deserve the homoerotic wrestler of the month title for his Matmen 23 face-off with the Goldenboy.

Austin does chiropractic work on Britboy rookie Will Stanley.

And my last instant infatuation for the first 5 days of June is Rock Hard Wrestling’s rookie lovely, Will Stanley. See, Austin’s back (making for 2 nominations for the title this month), but like Joe, I’m immediately craving a closer look at handsome, ripped hunk Will Stanley. That body, that ink, that face, AND an accent? Nostalgia alone could tip the scales to Will Stanley, Esquire, in honor of the queen’s diamond jubilee.

Hot, hot, hot start to summer, homoerotic wrestling fans!

Where My Mind Is

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The insanity in my life continues, so I’ll keep the text brief around here for a while. What’s on my mind right now, however, is inspired by the rising mercury and the sun worshippers crawling onto the grass at the local parks in my normally sun-starved corner of the world. Yes, it’s all about legs, my friends. Bit, tasty, bulging, thick, defined, powerful legs are turning me on at every turn these days.
So here are just a few of the most notable legs firing up my homoerotic wrestling imagination. First, start with this mouthwatering image from BG East’s Wrestle Revenge.  Typically, I think of Z-Man’s opponents as the luckiest sons of bitches on the planet. The opportunity to pound and squeeze his painfully pretty muscle body, beating the living shit out of him and bringing the grinning prettyboy to his knees has fantasy material written all over it. But in this case, it’s a humiliated, suffering, completely helpless Z-Man who I’m thinking is the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet. Because if you’re going to get nearly suffocated, trapped high between an opponent’s thighs and choking on the monster cock and balls shoved in your face, there’s just nobody I think I’d rather take that ride with than chiseled, gorgeous Tyrell Tomsen and his sculpted tree trunks.  But there are some runner ups who might give my fantasy a run for its money.  I’d love to see Z-Man lined up and shoved in a deeply intimate face-to-crotch head scissors just like this from a lovely receiving line of massively muscled legs, just so I could make a direct comparison.

For example, Can-Am’s recent rookie Tyler Saint James. From what I’ve seen of him so far, he can’t wrestle for shit. But I’d pay an added surcharge to watch him lean back against a corner turnbuckle with Z-Man’s head pretty much disappearing between those mountainous thighs of Tyler’s.

Give me a time machine and an extra bottle of baby oil, and I’d hand over a testicle to watch iconic babyface muscle boy Johnny Olson clamp those bodybuilder legs of his around Z-Man’s head and yank on Z’s hair until he’s slid the playgirl model’s nose right between his balls.
Again, it’d take a time machine (unless he’s still lifting those weights and swinging that pipe), but one-hit fantasyman who inspired countless explosive climaxes in me, Philippe Nicolas, would threaten my grip on sanity to squeeze those picture-perfect heads of his quads with Z’s face trapped between them. Just a couple minutes of dick whipping and I’d be hopelessly certifiable.

Underwear and swimwear models are populating my typical surf sites these days. Male models, even fitness boys, can tend to have relatively skinny legs. While there’s nothing wrong with lean, powerful, slender legs, I’ve got a hard spot for thick, powerful, beefy thighs. Happily, there are a few fitness models selling minuscule quantities of highly stretchable fabric who also show of gorgeous, bulging legs.  Slide Z’s face between these quads and lets hear this Brazilian fitness boy muffle the playgirl model’s screams with his sweetly bulging crotch.

Again, better yet, let’s see Matt Schiermeier (who could’ve competed for a shot at the Producer’s Ring Secretarial Pool a couple of years ago) with his veiny, granite carved tree trunks locked around Z’s head with Matt’s uncovered cock resting across Z’s forehead!

This shot of Todd Sanfield inspires in me the image of Z’s noggin’ trapped between Todd’s shiny, naked hamstrings, with Todd driving Z’s forehead into the floor, repeatedly, poundingly, until the Z-Man goes limp.  Follow that up with Todd pinning Z-Man’s face with Todd’s mouthful of a cock, and I’m driven insane once again.

Finally, I don’t know who the hell this Greek god actually is, but this pretty much sums up my attitude about the arrival of warmth and sunshine these days. This is what Z-Man should be seeing, as he rouses from getting choked out cold with this superhuman’s cock stuffed down his throat and his thighs crushing Z’s temples. Fantasies ignited by late spring sunshine… carry on.

Still Kicking

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Does absence make the heart grow fonder? The rest of my life is leaving little room for posting here, but I I wanted to assure folks concerned about my silence that I’m still kicking.

I’m in a major push to complete a project, pack up my life, and move across the country. All great stuff. All crazy-making stuff.

In the interest of full disclosure (and let’s face it, I’ve been known to disclose more than you really wanted to know), in my hierarchy of needs, blogging about my wrestling fetish is a more expendable step on the ladder to my wrestling kink self-actualization than actually watching and enjoying homoerotic wrestling.

In other words, although I don’t always find time to write about it, I somehow never fail to find time to enjoy watching homoerotic wrestling. I’ve even got some exciting things brewing, including one or two interviews in the works as well as at leads a couple of reviews.

It’s all percolating out there. But in the mean time, I’m metaphorically in mid-launch, putting every effort into landing the soles of my boots right on the kisser of my next opponent. I’m taking inspiration from one of the most beautiful high flyers of all time, lovely, levitating Tommy Zenk.

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Reader’s Choice – Gabriel Ross

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John and I had an interesting sidebar conversation about the results of this month’s reader’s choice poll to pick the sexiest Brit on the BG East roster. Hands down, sexy, smoldering, cherubic sex fighter Gabriel Ross came out on top. It’s not as if it’s difficult to see the appeal.

Reader’s Choice – Sexiest British BG East wrestler: Gabriel Ross

Gabriel is physically breathtaking. Particularly fans into the barely legal side of the spectrum (typically not me, but I get it) would obviously be drawn to petite Gabriel. At a slender 5’4″ tall, he looks painfully young and immaculately innocent. A few seconds into a Gabriel Ross match and you’re likely to be filled with the anticipation of a corrupted youth storyline. A short time later, around the time that cherubic Gabriel has dropped his opponent with a knee to the crotch and dragged him across the room by his hair, you can’t help but quickly recalibrate your expectations. He may look like an angel, but he’s a vicious little devil with a seriously sadistic lust for taking an unsuspecting opponent completely by surprise and crushing any schoolboy bashing fantasies that he may have had.

Gabriel shows Mike Martin that he’s huge where it counts.

Appropriately enough, sweet-faced Gabriel’s first BG East opponent was the second highest vote-getter in our poll, hot ‘n horny grappler Mike Martin. At 5’7″ and 150 pounds, the opportunity to outweigh and outmuscle an opponent doesn’t drop in Mike’s eager lap often. Seeing the doe-eyed, babyfaced Gabriel smiling up at him must have inspired quite the boarding school bully fantasy for notoriously nasty Mr. Martin. What a revelation for Mike to find himself with an up close look at Gabriel’s massively bulging package as the cherubic newbie cranks out a face-to-crotch head scissors.

Mike is too distracted to realize Gabriel
has backed him into a corner!

Mike’s superior skill, experience and size were more than enough to handle lovely Gabriel. But then again, handling Gabriel can be quite a distraction in and of itself. Mike is only the first of many opponents who would find themselves compromised by the mouthwatering beauty and erotic offense of the perpetually innocent-looking hottie with the supremely squeezable ass.

The more vulnerable Gabriel becomes, the harder it is to stay focused on wrestling.

Remember, this was about the sexiest Britboy in the BG East roster, and from Gabriel’s first appearance (an X-Fight!), it was clear that the word “little” would not be on anyone’s mind once the babyfaced Lancelot unsheathed that truly astonishing sword. Some homoerotic wrestlers seem to need to warm up to the genre a bit before they lose their kit entirely. They often seem to need to work up to the point of not only going naked but showing their physical arousal on camera. Blushing beauty Gabriel has never, for a moment, appeared to have any problem in that department whatsoever.

Gabriel and Chris Xaos look like they decided well before the match began
that this would be an X-Fight.

And again, appropriately enough, Gabriel has shown his stuff against the 3rd place finisher in the poll as well. His X-Fight with tender punk Chris Xaos was a visual feast for someone with a catchweight fantasy, which I’m often nursing. Chris stands 9 inches taller and about 35 pounds heavier than beautiful Gabriel, and the pairing makes for some stunningly gorgeous homoerotic wrestling sculpture.

Chris Xaos sizes up his not-so-little opponent after all.

The contrast is striking and hot! Chris controls and contorts his petite opponent like an upperclassmen showing the ropes to a tasty little morsel from a few years behind. I find it incredibly erotic to see Chris taking it to Gabriel and enjoying the spoils by lustfully stroking and studying Gabriel’s angelic body. Chris loves this assignment, and damn it all if Gabriel doesn’t seem to get worked harder and harder the more he suffers in the bigger man’s grip.

Mouthwatering!

Homoerotic wrestling, of course, is not at all only about wrestling prowess and physical strength. Gabriel has a whole arsenal of high powered assets that never fail to serve him very, very well, even against opponents as big and brutal as Chris Xaos. Just that luscious bubble butt alone throws Chris off script, as the big man pauses to plant a juicy kiss on Gabriel’s barely thonged ass.

Even when he’s totally helpless,
Gabriel is more than a handful.

Chris wants to kiss it all, in fact, and the more he tortures the cherub, the harder Gabriel’s over-abundantly blessed tool becomes. Even mitts the size of Chris’ are filled to overcapacity wrapped around Gabriel’s not-so-secret-anymore weapon. The two of them sum up the most direct translation of homoerotic wrestling, wrapped tightly in an erotic ensemble of domination, pain, arousal and lust.

Gabriel’s all-man cock brings muscleboy Luc Bonay to his knees.

Gabriel is beautifully fit, but he’s no muscleboy. He’s paradigmatically babyfaced, but he’s also not a boytoy jobber. When opponents come face to face with Gabriel, they tend to look confident and just a little hungry. When they come face-to-crotch with his primetime porn-ready cock, they look more awestruck, a tad intimidated, and absolutely famished.

Gabriel’s got Jared Curzon right where he wants him.

So John and I were discussing what the votes in this poll might reveal, not just about the gorgeous Britboys who wrestle for BG East, but about neverland readers as well.  We wondered what the cross tabulation would look like if we could have parsed out the votes based on the geographical location of the voters. Does “sexy” draw our eyes to different assets depending on the culture within which we reside?

Gabriel’s boyish good looks and monster cock are a recipe
to make many fans’ mouths water.

An American homoerotic wrestling company producing British wrestlers to grapple for what we assume to be primarily an American audience, but surely with some appeal to British homoerotic wrestling fans… it seems like an incredibly complex cross-cultural concoction. What’s sexy almost certainly does have cultural reference points and relativity. On average, about 80% of neverland readers sign on from the U.S.  If the neverland constituency were reversed, would Gabriel (and Mike and Chris) have done as well?

Gabriel Ross makes hearts melt and cocks rage.

Britboy bodies, American eyes, British eyes, dollars, cents, pound and pence… happily, all of the nominees garnered some support (though I’m floored that ggggorgeous Rob Chandler got only 1 vote!). “Foreign” accents, cross-cultural concepts of male beauty, and the socially constructed perception of gay male eroticism aside, like so many of Gabriel Ross’ opponents, we’re just lucky to get to enjoy all of the hot, horny wrestling that he and his countrymen share with us from the archives of BG East. Congratulations to Gabriel, and I for one am looking forward to more of the beautiful boys from Britannia at BG East!

Reader’s Choice Poll – Sexy Brits

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Neverland reader John let me know that he’s a big BG East fan, and he asked me an excellent question: “How about a competition for the sexiest Brit?” My answer: that’s an excellent suggestion!  Coming up with a short list of my nominations for the sexiest homoerotic wrestling Brit was a surprisingly difficult task.  I asked John to give me his top 5 sexy BG East Brit battlers, and then I painfully limited myself to add only 5 more to the short list.  I’m confident that voters will want to add some worthy hunks we’ve left off of our lists, so when you register your vote to the right, you have the option to select “other” and then name your pick in the comment section to this post.  So many mouthwatering Britboys to choose from… but which one do you think is sexiest?

In alphabetical order, here are the nominations for this month’s Reader’s Poll:

Chris Burnley – 5’7″, 165 lbs.

Chris Burnley is nothing short of striking. Of course, he can punch the shit out of an opponent’s abs, but I also mean visually striking, wrestling with his essentially hairless, milky pale, fantastically sexy body. He turned up the heat in 4 BG East matches, and with each appearance, he packed more muscle onto his bulging, pale body, always starkly contrasted by that adorable little boy face. Sexy Britboy wrestler without a doubt. Sexiest?

Rob Chandler – 5’5″, 143 lbs.

Rob Chandler has made a massive impression in his 4 BG East outings. In his first appearance, BG East described him as looking like “the bastard love child” of Aryx Quinn and Cole Cassidy. That was pretty much all I needed to know to be entranced, but catch that rock hard physique, the gorgeous ink, and the jaw dropping beer can hanging between his legs, and you’ll know why he’s on this list. As with all things around these parts, it’s far more than just the visuals, and Rob is as erotically intense a wrestler as just about any.  Just about?

Ty Garrison – 5’10”, 168 lbs.

This list would clearly not be complete without a push for Ty Garrison. He’s burned up the mats in 11 BG East matches. His body is lucious, his game face is fierce, and his wrestling is merciless. The heat he generates motivates some of the most explicitly sexual homoerotic wrestling in the BG East archives.

Neil Hewitt – 6′, 168 lbs.
Neil Hewitt has battled in 3 BG East matches, soaking up the pain like a sponge and clearly loving every moment of it. He can talk trash, he’s ready to exploit any weakness, and he’s got a pros in private attitude to turn a motel room into a high stakes pro arena. Hot bod, gorgeous blue eyes, and ready to throw down at a moments notice… that’s sexy!

Mike Martin – 5’7″, 150 lbs.

16 matches loaded with buckets of Mike Martin’s sweat are more than enough to qualify this workhorse as a contender in this poll. He’s another star of an amazingly hot collection of X and XXX fights, and even when he keeps his kit on, he’s bringing sexy to every venue BG East owns on both sides of the Atlantic. He’s got a body built for grappling, and a fight face that should make any opponent think twice. But I think it’s that heart melting, adorable smile that’s his best weapon at disarming and distracting.

Ethan Pryor – 5’9″, 170 lbs.
Regular readers know my infatuation with imagining mainstream newsmen as stars in homoerotic wrestling matches. So no wonder Matt Lauer’s little brother, Ethan Pryor, made it onto both John and my short lists to include in today’s poll. Horny, hairy, and a face meant for primetime, Ethan’s 4 appearances for BG East prove that he’s ready to add as many X’s as you like, and damn if he shouldn’t show up as a Hollywood leading man! When Daniel Craig hangs up his gig as 007, I’m lobbying for Ethan to take his place!
Steve Ranger – 5’8″, 172 lbs.

Wowsers! Talk about buckets and buckets of sexy sweat! Steve Ranger has caused a tidal wave with his lickable, powerhouse body and prove-it attitude in all 4 of his BG East matches. A shaved head always inspires a double-take from me, and giving Simon Forrester (who I’m kicking myself for not being able to squeeze onto this list) everything he’s got both on the motel mattress and in the shower, Steve is a seriously sexy contender.

Mickey Rollins – 170 lbs.

Mickey Rollins caught my attention wrestling against Belgian sexpot, Dane Tarsen (at least John and I think Dane’s Belgian). Mickey is dripping with sexiness at all times. His ripped, lean body looks like classic sculpture, and his evolving facial hair in the 3 matches he wrestled for BG East is playful and just a little sinister. If Mickey had ever failed to get stripped naked in a wrestling match, it would have been a national shame.  Bounce a quarter off those tight abs and tell me if Mickey is the sexiest Brit in the bunch.

Gabriel Ross – 5’4″, 135 lbs.
It’s a good thing that BG East has proof of age on record, because otherwise I’d struggle with whether I’m a lecher for being so fantastically turned on by this definition-of-a babyface known as Gabriel Ross. He’s petite, with a bouncy bubble butt and fit, not overly muscled physique. He smiles a lot at his opponents. And right about the time that they can’t help but grin back at him, he drops them flat on their asses and slaps on a humiliating face-to-crotch headscissors that makes even the big boys whimper. And no stranger to the X’s, Gabriel clearly cannot wait to unleash the disproportionately long, lovely length of pipe that he’s swinging. The face of a cherub and the cock of a porn star make for one astonishingly sexy homoerotic wrestling Brit!

Iain Scott – 5’10”, 168 lbs.

Scottish muscleman and wrestling fetish evangelist, Iain Scott, quickly came to mind for both John and me when we were working on this list. Iain’s body is powerful and powerfully arousing. His chest is astonishingly broad. And, as John put it, it’s hard not to be in awe of Iain’s “lovely dick and wonderful arse!” Iain’s 9 matches for BG East are some of the foundational texts in the history of homoerotic wrestling, and all reports are that he’s continued to promote homoerotic wrestling independently in the UK. Pucker up and get ready to plant a wet one on that mammoth crotch of his if you fail to acknowledge the founder of Ruff N’ Raunchy as sexiest Brit in the bunch.

Chris Xaos – 6’1″, 170 lbs.
Our last suggestion for sexiest homoerotic wrestling Brit is Chris Xaos. There’s just no pretense with Chris. He’s here to wrestle you to submission in order to fuck you morning, noon and night. Chris is so turned on by his work, he’s apt to distract himself just when he’s on top by indulging in a long, lusty lip lock. His BG East career so far spans 5 matches, and his story arc is getting sexier and sexier by the minute. He tends to tower over his opponents, at that long, fit frame is sporting one of the prettiest asses in the business. He looks like he could be a punk, but Chris is prone to self-sabotaging moments of tender lust, and for my tastes, that’s one sexy combination!

Both John and I are instantly reconsidering our choices, but I’ve called a halt to tinkering with it any longer. Don’t count our “top 10” choices too carefully, because I’m not willing to check my math and eliminate anyone else from contention. You know the contenders as well as we do, so if your Britboy isn’t here, register your vote as “other” and put him in the comments below.

Of Masks and Men

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My silence since posting several days ago is a result of exciting things happening in the Bard household. I’m implementing some of the big changes that were part of my New Year’s Resolutions. With change comes loss, which in this case includes some loss of consistency in my posting here. But I’m confident that regular readers and kind souls will cut me some slack as I’m juggling several competing demands on my time right now. And then there are the pricks out there who wouldn’t know an expression of social grace if it came all over their face and was nice enough to wipe it clean.

Cock Avenger dons a mask and shows an unconventional side of himself.
I’m just about to tick off the 3rd anniversary of starting neverland. Three years!? It seems amazing on my end to have been plugging away at this for that long. Over the course of the past 3 years, I’ve encountered a ton of like-minded wrestling kinksters for whom things I write occasionally ring true to their experiences. I never fail to find it exciting and rewarding to get a message in one form or another letting me know something I’ve rattled on about hit a note, spoke as if from the inside out, and made someone feel a connection that felt affirming and validating about what turns them on. Those are truly awesome moments. But I won’t lie to you. There have occasionally been less generous comments and emails. I’m not counting the “I disagree with you” reflections of folks genuinely exploring both the overlaps and the distinctions between our tastes. Disagreement is, in one form or another, the heart of what turns me on. A little (or a lot) of tension, mine’s-bigger-than-yours, you’re-not-the-hot-shit-you-think-you-are work wonders to make a couple of hot hunks into full-fledged fantasy men who stroke my homoerotic lusts in the ring. It’s not the guys who disagree who trip my prick wire. It’s the guys who drop comments disparaging my opinions, calling me names, and generally taking the hospitality I’m well-bred enough to offer around here and then trying to take a dump in my living room.

Surge and Magnus let more hang out with masks on
than they might with masks off.
Just as I was contemplating what to write for neverland’s 3rd anniversary, I screened a post from an anonymous commenter who referred to me as a “gullible loser.” My policy has always been to screen comments, and I’m happy to keep my house tidy and amiable by putting personal attacks in the round file. I haven’t always permitted “anonymous” comments, precisely because I think it can encourage dickishness precisely like this. Internet social etiquette is weakly enforced and built on a complete lack of consensus, so people who would probably never walk into my actual living room and call me names for some reason feel entitled to be so rude on the pages of my own blog, because they don’t have to do it face to face. The opportunity to drop a little stink bomb anonymously, divorced from even the weakest pretense of accountability for one’s behavior, seems to only increase the stink.  I round-filed this last rude commenter like I’ve done to probably a dozen or so similar comments over the past 3 years. One thing the internet is not: a democracy. And on the pages that I spend way (WAY) too much time composing, I get to show pricks out the door before they virtually step foot in this little corner of the internet that I treat as if it’s my own. I also turned the filter back on restricting anonymous comments. Sign up for an OpenID and fire away, but for those who’d like to hide behind anonymity in order to be rude, take that shit elsewhere.

Sexy Aqua fights to prevent the vulnerability that comes
with being unmasked.
As far as I’m concerned, my bordering-on-narcissitic ramblings about homoerotic wrestling work on distinctly different rules than the homoerotic wrestling that I ramble on about. In the homoerotic wrestling ring (my favorite venue), some contemptuous insults are a beautiful device for establishing motivation for two lovely hardbodies to hammer on one another humiliatingly for a half hour. In my nearly 3 years of doing this, I’ve made it quite clear that I think that a healthy dose of smooth trash talk increases the eroticism of a wrestling encounter by multiples of 10 or more. Laying down some withering insults and predicting the humiliation of your opponent is a delightful way to establish the plot that I so enjoy in wrestling. Two competing predictions of superiority enter the ring, but when all is said and done, at most only one cocky hunk will have proven his point. Corporal domination paired with crushed dreams of victory… sweet, sweet stuff!…. in the ring.  Contemptuous, anonymous insults dropped on a blog without fear of accountability or the need to defend oneself does not turn me on.

Angelo Blanco is 20 times hotter for peering fiercely out from behind that mask!
Anonymity itself similarly carries completely different meanings in different contexts. The internet offers us all an opportunity to speak with a different voice, to project a self that’s something other than how we project ourselves walking through our days offline. Hell, if you haven’t picked it up, I don’t go by “Bard” anywhere else. Like many of the masked homoerotic wrestlers who yank my crank, an assumed name has given me the confidence to be more explicit, more provocative, and paradoxically more self-disclosive than I would probably otherwise be. Pseudonyms and monikers online function in my thinking a lot like ring masks. They add a sense of mystery and can serve to take away some of the inhibitions that we might harbor about what turns us on. Like masks, they might inspire us to be bigger and brasher, turning real-life jobbers into hardened heels, or permitting straight-laced vanilla boys to express their inner fetishists or kinksters. And, like wrestling masks, pseudonyms and monikers function more to establish confidentiality rather than anonymity. You can always find me laying down the layers of my kink on the pages of this blog. I’m the one replying to emails. Anonymous commenters, whether gracious or not, aren’t fully engaged in the conversation. There’s no “there” there, when it comes to an anonymous insult tossed across the internet like a flaming pile of shit left on the door step as the 12 year old culprit runs and hides in the bushes down the block.

Would Cage Thunder be as dominating and brutal if he
wrestled sans mask?
Three years running, and without fail I always feel a little vulnerability every time I push the “post” button. Every time I publish a piece of original fiction, I have a little twist in my stomach, flinching reflexively in anticipation that my sincerity will be taken for garbage. And 97% of the emails I receive, the comments posted, and the explanations given by guys signing up for the wrestling fiction groups confirm for me that the time I toss this blog’s way is well-received by classy guys who know the difference between what happens in the wrestling ring and what happens outside of it. I anticipate that there will always be the 3% (less, really) that don’t get it. The flamers and pricks, I’m sure, will endure. But neverland is my baby, bitches, so don’t expect to see your raised-in-a-barn tactlessness show up in these pages.

The demise of Goldenrod is the unmasking of Peter Stallion.
And, more importantly, thanks to those of you out there with social grace (both those who agree and those who disagree with me at any given point). Thanks to the hundreds of wrestlers who have turned me on over the past 3 years. Thanks to the homoerotic wrestling producers and other behind-the-cameras boys who, I strongly suspect, get many, many times over the prickish crap that I get. Life’s too short to take the crap seriously, I think. And it’s much to short to fail to appreciate the good work and kind words of like-minded homoerotic wrestling fans.

Of Gods and Men

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Adam Charlton, aka Adam400m
Neuro-cognitive psychologists argue human beings are wired to detect patterns in their environment, even when such patterns do not actually exist. Like when we ignore the 100 times that our horoscope is completely irrelevant to our lives, but take that 1 time it seems to fit as powerful confirmation that the stars dictate our fates. Our brains tend to select from among available evidence to construct patterned explanations for the world around us even when alternate explanations or the reality of random phenomena are actually in play.
Dan, aka Steel Muscle God
Take, for example, my simultaneous infatuation with YouTube muscle worship entrepreneurs, Steel Muscle God and Adam400m. A while back, I swore that I detected some one-upmanship between these two. A day after SMG would post a new video showing off close ups of his mouthwatering biceps, Adam400m would upload his own video oiling down his gargantuan upper arms and crowing about how massive he is. Adam would post a focus on his telephone pole thighs, and then a couple days later SMG would upload an flex session with his quads, inviting worshippers to imagine what it would be like to have their heads trapped between them. Were these two actually in virtual muscle worship combat with one another? Highly unlikely. But my imagination ran with the idea, inspiring me to write a homoerotic wrestling scenario where these two drop-dead gorgeous muscle hunks meet face to face and pec to pec to determine which one of them is the ultimate muscle god, and which one is destined to fall on his knees and concede.
My interview last month with SMG did nothing but fuel my fantasies when he mentioned that he’d contacted Adam400m and challenged him to a pose-off and wrestling match. While this serves as evidence confirming my belief in a virtual muscle war between them, I strongly suspect that there is a mix-up of cause-and-effect in the phenomena in question. Regardless, hearing from SMG that he laid down a muscle challenge on Adam fired up my erotic imagination plenty.  You can tell from my interview with him that SMG is a classy guy, but it’s not hard to read the sub-text to his story about contacting Adam and getting no response to his challenge. The implication is impossible to mistake: Adam’s a pussy, and what’s more, SMG claims that while his own gorgeous muscles are all natural, Adam is juiced.

I don’t have any independent evidence to verify SMG’s statements. I did reach out to Adam to see if he’d grant me an interview or at least answer a couple of questions. No reply. I bought a membership in Adam’s muscle worship website the same day I signed up for SMG’s website. The documentation of Adam’s muscle growth is pretty astonishing. If he isn’t juiced, he’s a freak of nature. Then again, those fluorescent baby blue eyes of his are hard to believe as well, but they seem knee-bucklingly real. What I learned, digging around in the the respective websites of these two internet hunks, leads me to some pretty firm conclusions, even if I didn’t find confirmatory evidence of SMG’s claims that Adam is comprised of artificial ingredients and that he was too much of a pussy to accept SMG’s challenge.
First of all, there’s just no doubt about it: Adam is bigger. His muscles are thicker. He’s more vascular. Muscle worshippers very well may want to pony up cash to count themselves among Adam400m devotees before they pay homage to the SteelMuscleGod. And between you and me, I don’t begrudge Adam the artificial pump. If he’s on it, it’s clearly producing the sort of fantasy muscleman body that I’m sure he’s aiming for. Over the course of the pics and videos on his website, you can watch some of Adam’s muscle growth, and it’s hard not to come to the same conclusion as SMG. The bodybuilder boy with the baby blues definitely could be artificially enhanced, and I’m guessing as a non-natural pro bodybuilder, he’s fitting right in on the scene. However, size is not, in and of itself, my kink.  There are many a homoerotic wrestling match that I’m most entranced by the relatively smaller guy who defies the math and dominates, humiliates, and lays waste to his bigger opponent. Objectively speaking, however, yes, undeniably, Adam’s got the advantage when it comes to being bigger and thicker. If that posedown SMG proposed ever happened, I have to guess that, juiced or not, Adam would dwarf the SteelMuscleGod commandingly, and he’d give that cocky, you-fucking-love-me grin of his and nod to the camera to drive home the point that his physique is simply more massive.

But if it comes as any surprise to you when I say that my kink is far from satisfied by sheer muscle size, then welcome. You must be new around here. Because what turns me on is the eroticism of wrestling. And although my imagination is mightily pleased to make all of Adam’s muscles as well as his piercing blue eyes and blond beauty into a picture-perfect babyface pro wrestler, Adam himself is, as far as I can tell, entirely silent on the subject. He performs, clearly in response to the requests of his fans. He dresses in gear that they send him.  He oils up, strips down to a jock strap, gives close ups to specifically requested muscles… but he never mentions a word about what all that mass and power would be good for in body-on-body combat. SMG, on the other hand, is even more enthusiastic to fulfill the fantasies of his fans, and he explicitly connects the dots between worshipping his steel muscles and enjoying what his hard-earned strength can do against a wrestling opponent. He’s posted several wrestling matches in his “store” and available to members, many specifically requested by fans. But even more erotically provocative for me, wrestling seems never far from SMG’s thoughts. I think just about every webcam show I’ve watched in SMG’s archives, regardless of the “theme” (gear, jerking off, posing in oil, crushing objects, worshipping his feet… the list goes on and on), whatever the ostensible topic of the session, he almost always muses in growling, sexy tones, about capturing a lucky worshipper’s head between his gorgeous thighs and squeezing, or crushing an opponent’s face between his rock hard pecs, or racking a screaming mortal across his square shoulders. What’s more, SMG’s bona fides among us include the fact that he competed in amateur wrestling when he was younger. Adam’s athletic background? He was a sprinter. Not bad mind you, but in a side-by-side comparison, SMG more than makes up the ground when it comes to satisfying the wrestling kinks among us.

More generally, the comparison between SMG’s website and Adam’s when it comes to explicit eroticism is… well, no comparison. Adam flexes for you. If you watch most any of Adam’s for-free YouTube clips, that’s pretty much what you get in the pay-site, just more of. There’s exactly one video that I can find of Adam posing in a jock strap. For more skin that that, there’s nothing in sight. There’s a hot teaser shot of Adam naked, coving his junk with his left hand, head carefully cropped out. But whenever this shot happened, I don’t see it represented elsewhere on his site (you can also pay for a private session, which may be when he’ll get more daring). SMG, on the other hand, successfully pulls off both the tease and the full monty. Some of his sessions are more coy than others, but you can find gorgeous detail of just about every inch of of SMG’s bulges and crevices in one format or another (usually in video!). He sports a lovely, thick, uncut cock and beautifully proportioned balls, and with only a little digging, you’ll find a video of him working up slowly and intimately to a naked erection, totally turning himself on as he growls and coos for the camshow audience, until he sits back in his chair and rubs out a hot shot across his washboard abs. You will NOT see this from Adam. I’ve been studying every shred of evidence I can find, but I have no idea if Adam is cut or uncut, long, stubby, thick or pencil-dicked. Guys into being locker room voyeurs will be taken only so far by Adam. SMG puts sizable distance between him and Adam for what he’s offering an erotically inclined audience.

The final details of this site-by-site comparison put the nail in the coffin of a certain blue-eyed Britboy, as far as I’m concerned. It’s a little hard to navigate the site in the first place, but it appears to me that Adam hasn’t actually updated his membership website with new content in about a year (almost 2 years when it comes to photos). SMG’s last update of new material was posted yesterday, comprised of a 5-minute focus on his gorgeous legs just after returning home from a leg workout (“more squeezing power,” SMG explains). He also posted an archived copy of his cam-show from a week ago, including the last 22 minutes of his gear-fetish send up, changing into one set of trunks/underwear after another to satisfy as many fan fetishes as he can.  And finally, SMG always seems to be having fun, which makes it that much more sexy to watch. He laughs, a lot. Not a self-conscious dumb ass laugh, but a hot, sexy, supremely confident laugh. He can give a running narrative in titillating detail about every inch of his body and what he could do to dominate you, as he flexes for 50 minutes at a time. Adam… well, Adam sounds a little bored. He typically starts his 4 or 5 minute videos with some chat (love the Brit accent), but then he’s generally silent as he flexes. He favors his front side a lot, always leaving me craving to see him drop trou and deliver that fuzzy muscled ass of his a lot more. A reader of this blog recently confided in me that he finds Adam “boring,” and I have to agree, though I think it’s more that I find him bored, which translates into a sense of boredom on my end.  You’ll pay $18 (American) for a recurring one-month membership (which is slightly a pain in the ass to cancel), or $46 for 3 months. SMG will cost you just a little more: $23 for a non-recurring 1 month, or $20 for a recurring month-to-month (he’s offering a 3-month discount that you can email him and ask about). But mind you, the price comparison appears to include no new content from Adam in about a year versus a steady stream of cam-shows, videos, pics and promos from SMG.
I’ll admit that SMG’s openness to respond to my request for an interview also adds to my favor, but it’s not just the ego-stroke. I think SMG is genuinely more responsive, much more engaging, and frankly more interested in his audience than Adam appears to be. I get the impression that Adam is collecting some relatively passive income (particularly since he hasn’t posted in a year), as he pursues his professional bodybuilding career. Good on him, I say. But if you’re a wrestling kinkster or a muscle worshipper who likes a healthy serving of domination with your main course, you’re pretty much going to get what you can from Adam via his FB page and YouTube channel (more, actually). If SMG is tickling your kink, his site is a going concern.  You can also get regular updates and teasers on his FB page, and he’s almost guaranteed to give you a shout out on camera if you sign-in to enjoy one of his highly interactive live cam-shows.


I was thinking about writing a sequel to the fictional homoerotic wrestling serial I wrote starring SMG and Adam a while back, but I don’t think I need to. When it comes to firing up my homoerotic wrestling imagination and delivering a full-frontal assault on my wrestling kink, SMG continues to live large and in charge.

Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month

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It’s time to honor another homoerotic wrestler who captured my imagination and excited me the most for appearing in a match released in the prior month. The field of contenders this time around is almost paralyzingly deep. BG East alone has populated the potential prize winners with one of the richest catalogs I can remember. From Strip Stakes 3, both gorgeous rookie Damien Rush and rising heel Morgan “the Mastodon” Cruise easily secure nominations. From Catch Weight 5, reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler (porn-boy) Skrapper and his fanatsyman muscle beast opponent, Dev Michaels get credit where credit is most definitely due. Lovely underwear model Rio Garza gets a nomination for his Very Bad Day, getting fucked up sequentially and in tandem by Bulldog Barzini and his surprisingly inspiring protege, Mike Pitt. I can’t help myself but nomination from Mat Rookies 1 no fewer than 3 of the sexy, sweaty rooks, namely Ben Cohen, former HWOTM Jake Jenkins, and still another former HWOTM, Eli Black. It’ll come as no surprise, considering my recent gushing, that I’m breathlessly nominating rookie-I-don’t-think-so Latino stud, Diego Diaz from Florida Fights 4, as well as former HWOTM Bobby Horton and a new-to-me favorite, Drew Russell. And I’ll be damned if I absolutely can’t help myself but send up both big, luscious bruiser Chris Xaos and his muscle man opponent in combat boots, Rob Chandler, for one of the most homoEROTIC motel tussles, Motel Madness UK. Even with that huge list, I’m already second guessing several of the boys that I’m leaving on the table, but I must charge forward. Turning next to Can-Am, I’m whole-heartedly nominating yet another Latino muscle beast by the name of Thiago Diaz and ripped beyond belief Tyler Reese, for a muscle bashing feast for the eyes in Florida Pro Fights (not to be confused with Diego Diaz starring in BG East’s Florida Fights 4… seriously?). And then I can’t fail to nominate from the Rock Hard Wrestling ranks Eli Black (again) and his opponent, Austin Cooper, as well as former HWOTM Z-Man (aka Zack Johnathan) and muscle tamer extraordinaire, nasty Ethan Andrews.  And finally, an entry from an entirely new source this time around, I’m also nominating my personal crush and recent interviewee, Dan aka Steel Muscle God for his recent release of a muscle pose down, trash-talking, arm wrestling-leads-to no rules jockstrap wrestling on the mats in an unknown European gym (and if I knew the name of his shaved headed muscle beast opponent, I’d throw him a nominating bone as well).

This, my friends, has been a bumper crop of fantastic homoerotic wrestling! I think I’ll remember April 2012 for some time to come, because the new releases this month have kept me dehydrated and distracted from my work from start to finish. If it were even a slightly less competitive month, probably at least 5 of these boys would easily claim the title. But as hard as it is to put some of these incredibly entertaining boys in the back seat, I’m picking just one of them to drive us all forward as new, reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month…

Eli is only the second two-time winner of the title of homoerotic wrestler of the month. I trace his lead in the hotly contested race this past month starting right around April 4, when he dropped me the message that I might want to let neverland readers know that April was officially Eli Black month. Why official? Because Eli Black said it was so. Why his month? Because he was about to star simultaneously in new releases for an astonishing 3 different underground wrestling companies at the same time. And he kicked ass in serious MMA competition. And it was his birthday month. Enough said. It was Eli Black month.

Eli rips Austin Cooper in half.

I love, love, love a self-promoting, trash-talking, supremely confident, ripped muscle stud of an athlete, and there may be none to compete with him on all those fronts at the same time (except possibly Kid Karisma… now that would be a combination!). Eli’s match against goldenboy muscle man, Austin Cooper, was an astonishing catch weight wonder to behold. Eli quite literally got shot-putted halfway across the ring (multiple times), repeatedly slammed, stomped and pummeled corner-to-corner, tortured in the ropes, cracked and rocked humiliatingly across Austin’s knee… and still Primus kept clawing his way back for more.  RHW captures so well Eli’s face when he’s on top, making an opponent hurt, and he’s nothing short of ecstatic as he watches the agony he’s administering contort his opponent’s face.  Eli large and in charge drives me wild, but Eli taking an epic mauling and clawing back on his hands and knees to stare defeat defiantly in the face turns me into a quivering mess.

When the rules of amateur wrestling start to get bent, things get really interesting!

But truth be told, it’s Eli’s rematch against Jake Jenkins in Mat Rookies 1 that put the distance between Eli and the rest of the pack to propel him across the finish line first as homoerotic wrestler of the month.  Eli conceded in my recent interview with him that he has a grudging respect for Jake, and if he was forced to take a tag team partner, it’s be him. Watching Mat Rookies 1 gives you the context for that comment. After Jake schooled Eli hard for his rookie debut at RHW, they show up for this rematch on the mats for BG East. They’re both gorgeous in their singlets, and the initial amateur-style sparring is incredible to watch. They both give running commentaries on the holds and moves, as well as on their relative assessments of how each of them is doing in the match. They’re beautifully matched in both muscle and technical skill. If they’d grown up in the same place, I’m sure they’d have been best buddies, teammates on the wrestling team, and friendly competitors for being feared and adored the most in the cutthroat world of adolescence.

When the singlets come off, the rules go out the window.

But the stakes in homoerotic wrestling are decidedly different than those on the high school wrestling team. When Jake peels out of his sweat-soaked singlet, stripping down to his orange jock strap, Eli sees it for what it is: just another challenge. Not to be outdone by the beautiful physique of handsome, young Jake, Eli shrugs out of his singlet straps and strips down to his white jock strap, insisting that just like his wrestling, his body is better than Jake’s as well.

Nobody seems to be able to resist gut punching that wall of rippled muscle!

Locked in bare-assed combat, the boys demonstrate why amateur wrestling skills take you only so far once you’ve reached the ranks of underground homoerotic wrestling.  Amateur wrestling doesn’t offer the opportunity to see two bare-assed hardbodies pick each other up by the hair and slam one another into walls (I’d be much, much more into amateur wrestling if they did). Jake and Eli didn’t learn ab claws and gut punching and suspended surfboards and over-the-knee backbreakers from high school wrestling practice. Fortunately for us, they picked it up elsewhere, and they unleash every above and below board move at one point or another to lay down layer after layer of humiliating domination.

Eli wipes the smirk right off of Jake’s face with a bare-handed choke.

Jake is the smart-ass in this match. He smirks a lot. He laughs off clearly painful holds that Eli applies. He intentionally goads the rookie, questioning his manhood. His psychological strategy, for the most part, is to stay ice cool regardless how hot the contest heats up, letting rash, short-tempered Eli burn himself out and run himself into a corner with impetuosity.  Every time Jake muscles his way on top and controls Primus, he snorts and chortles, building the psychologically dominating argument that he’s destined to beat Eli.

Jake threatens to snap Eli in half.

But I have to admit that Eli’s half-centimeter long fuse is what soaks up my attention. He rides his rage like he’s in a rodeo. He counts up every indignity that he suffers at Jake’s hands in order to keep a running tally of the humiliation that he must, he will, he is destined to eventually return with interest paid. In the past, I’ve mentioned this notion of a wrestler staying “present” as something that turns me on and just isn’t always something you can count on, but Eli’s focus is like a laser beam. I forget that there had to be at least one or two other guys crammed into the mat room that day to film this gem, primarily because Eli is one fiercely focused mother fucker!

Shades of Brad Rochelle from Wrestlefest 2, Jake is ready to bag and tag his prey.

Both of these boys work… their… ASSES off in this match, which is also something that can’t be assumed. And by the time Jake hoists Eli across his shoulders and parades him around the ring like a stag he’s shot on opening day of hunting season, Eli’s rock hard vulnerability absolutely makes me gasp. All of the nuance and character in the match makes being captured in Jake’s torture rack exquisitely poignant and climactic. The battle has waxed and waned for both combatants, and it’s looked like it’s over many times already.  But finally, it seems like cocky and calm Jake had the winning strategy, letting Eli’s rash rage burn itself right out in a pool of outmuscled sweat and tears. All of Eli’s predictions of how he’s going to conquer the world, tame any foe, and become the franchise look like the dashed dreams of a hero from Greek mythology. Jake is stunningly powerful, and the look of primal joy/rage on his face as he struts around the mat and bounces Eli’s tortured back across his shoulders is the spitting image of another young, muscled frat boy seizing destiny by the balls and settling in for some well-earned self-congratulations.

“Go… to… SLEEP!”

Eli’s done that clawing his way back from the brink of despair that turns me on so hard. He’s battled long and hard. He’s sold me that he’s burned every last ounce of fuel in his tanks (of both physical and psychological stamina). Primus has told me that story that moves me so deeply. And then, holy fuck! He delivers two sharp elbows into Jake’s temple. As Jake stumbles and begins to drop Primus, Eli has captured Jake’s throat with his right arm before his feet have touched the mat. Out of nowhere, Eli locks on a beautifully tight, perfectly positioned sleeper. Jake fights it. The hit of dominating power and fate are still in his nostrils from the torture rack he commanded just moments ago. But ambitious young Eli remains clamped across Jake’s back like a python. Primus is gasping for air, still recovering from the torture rack. As Jake begins to melt in his arms, losing his hold on consciousness, the two sink to the mat with Eli’s cheek resting across the back of Jake’s head. “Go… to… SLEEP!” Eli gasps, almost pleadingly, desperate to put this most challenging rival down once and for all.

Jake dreams of past victories.

Just like in the ranking for HWOTM, Eli comes out on top. Both barely clad boys are nursing their wounds, neither one able to summon the strength to start the long journey out of the mat room. It’s done, as Jake pants desperately, regaining a solid handhold on consciousness and looking up to see Eli clutching his back, clearly still in agony. Grudging respect between these two?  Of course. And what does Eli say to sum up this destined-for-the-hall-of-fame 40 minutes?  “Pussy.” Of course.

Reigning 2-time homoerotic wrestler of the month, Eli Black.

So last month was Eli Black month, leading to this month, as Primus returns to the throne of homoerotic wrestler of the month. It’s no wonder to me that he’s got his eye on running the show. He’s one fiercely entertaining, smoking hot wrestler. If I’ve said it once, I’m sure I’ll say it a thousand times. This is Eli Black’s world. You’re just living in it.

Getting it Right… Mostly

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Christian Taylor sits back and enjoys the waning hours of being reigning
homoerotic wrestler of the month.

I’ve been angling for a interview with reigning (for another day) homoerotic wrestler of the month, Christian Taylor (aka, Chris Cox).  I’ve never had any contact with said wrestling hunk, however. I have enjoyed the opportunity to correspond with Skip Vance (aka Jeff Hollister), Christian’s boyfriend.  Now, I consider it bad manners to use a guy’s boyfriend to deliver a message to him. That said, when I named Christian as homoerotic wrestler of the month, I decided to be blatantly rude and do just that. I asked Skip if Christian had anything he’d be willing to say on the record here on this blog about his status as HWOTM.

Skip Vance gives me the time of day!

While Skip hasn’t won the title of homoerotic wrestler of the month (yet), he’s an incredibly sexy and astonishingly prolific jobber in his own right who’s appeared a dozen times already in posts on this blog. An opportunity to quote him on these pages would be a get I’d be awfully proud of as well. So I also asked Skip if he had any thoughts about his boyfriend being named homoerotic wrestler of the month.  No word from Christian, but Skip, who seems always to be up for just about anything (damn, that’s hot!), shared some of his thoughts on the subject.

Christian fuels regular workouts with meals lovingly
prepared by Skip.

“That’s awesome,” Skip responded. “It’s nice dating a star [lol].  He works out hard every week and stays in great shape year round. He really enjoys me making him dinner since you never know what’s in other people’s food they cook. He lives for fun and good health.”

“…very confident but a little shy”
Skip went on to let me know how close to the mark I came in my attempt at a psychological profile of Christian.  “So, after reading the article I have to say you got it right mostly,” Skip explains.  “He is always working to make his body better. He is very confident but a little shy. He loves to be outdoors, and if we’re not wrestling, we’re getting ready just in case there is a last minute match. BG East is not just a paycheck for him.  It’s the love of wrestling.”
Skip & Christian are wrestling, or training to wrestle,
non-stop!
Reading between the lines, it seems to me Skip is suggesting that I’m on the money when I speculated that Christian is “in the fold” of those of us tuned into the eroticism of wrestling. Clearly, neither Christian or Skip is punching the clock when they show up on camera slamming and getting slammed and working up a bucket and a half of sweat as they grapple. That the two of them are pretty much always wrestling or training for their next match is my idea of the most perfect homoerotic wrestling romance in history. Again, reading between the lines, I’m guessing where I only got it “mostly” right may be in my completely baseless speculation that Christian might have some (completely unfounded) insecurity about his own body. Skip clarifies that his lovely, long lover is “very confident but a little shy.” Hot damn, that’s a hot combination! And with looks and a wrestling resume like his, it’s no wonder I was on thin ice to suggest that he may not be fully aware of the extent of just how sexy he is.  I happily stand corrected, and to set the record straight, let me clarify that I think that a little shyness paired with a steely self-confidence and pride in having a smoking hot body is definitely the sexiest thing on earth.
Christian’s sexy and he knows it!

As we prepare to say “adieu” for now to Christian Taylor as homoerotic wrestler of the month, let me just make two last clarifications. 1) Skip Vance is absolutely a homoerotic wrestling star in his own right. My asking for a quote from him reflecting on Christian’s mounting the monthly throne was in no way to suggest that Skip is anything less than one of the sexiest screamers in homoerotic wrestling. He’s got a devilish playfulness about him that’s irresistible, and pound for pound, I’m guessing Skip has taken more punishment than almost anybody currently in the business. Add to that the fact that Skip responded to my request for a quote today, and you’ve got one hard-bodied jobber at the top of my list of “friends of neverland.”  And clarification 2), I know full well that my incessant speculation about what’s unstated about the homoerotic wrestlers who populate my playlists is likely often entirely off-base. And if ever, (ever) the subject of my wild speculation wants to set the record straight by taking a few questions to satisfy my prurient interests, all he needs to do is drop me a line anytime.

Practice makes perfect!

Love ya both, boys! Thanks for sharing all the fun!

Eli Black’s World

wrestlebard6 Comments
Go on. Try it.
Today is Eli Black’s birthday. Anyone wanna be first in line to slap that ass? Let me rephrase the question: anyone wanna be first in line to try to slap that ass?!
Eli screams his way to yet another victory in the cage.
Eli celebrated Eli Black month by winning a first round knock out victory in yet another MMA competition last weekend. Just like the boys at BG East, Rock Hard Wrestling, and UCW, Eli’s MMA opponents are learning the hard way to fuck with Eli Black at their own peril. And as an observant reader detected from my last post about Eli, it does indeed appear that he’s sporting some new bright red ink on his left upper arm.

Eli’s rematch with Jake Jenkins (pre-new ink) for BG East is an astonishingly sexy birthday gift for Eli fans. Eli and Jake start with some “practicing” in the mat room, demonstrating that both of these gorgeous hunks come from accomplished amateur backgrounds. They deliver a clinic of amateur holds and throws, each wrestler determined to prove his technical superiority.

The trash talk flies fast and furious from the start, getting hotter and hotter as the minutes tick by. “Maybe you should stop pissing me off,” Jake almost coos.  “Maybe you should stop sucking!” Eli snaps back.

Jake mocks Primus like poking a pit bull with a stick. “Uh oh,” he chuckles, controlling Eli’s back. “What’s about to happen to Eli Black?”  Eli gets more and more pissed by the second. “Stop being a bitch, Jake!”

These boys tell a fantastically compelling story. You know the story. It’s about the rush of testosterone mixed with injured pride. It’s told in sweat and grunts, all the while desperately trying not to look like they’re breaking a sweat or having to work. The story is about getting seriously pissed off at one another, but struggling to maintain their cool, to laugh it off, to look like the hot hunk who just out hustled or outmuscled you isn’t getting in your head.  Well, Jake manages the I’m too cool to look like I’m working bit. Eli isn’t really one who tends to hide it when he’s getting good and pissed off.

Jake just laughs when Eli snaps on a spladle, stretching Jake’s legs apart. “Stretch ’em out a little more,” Jake taunts him.  When Eli obliges, Jake’s back arches and the veins in his neck rise to the surface, but he just smiles. “Quit being a little bitch! I know this hurts,” Eli snarls back.

Jake locks on a headscissors, pulling Eli’s face high up against his ass. “How does that smell?” Jake asks nonchalantly. A few seconds later, the two are stalking one another around the small mat room, and Jake shrugs his big shoulders out of his singlet. “Oh, what,” Eli snaps, “you’re big?” Jake grins ear from ear when he replies, “I’m sexy!” Never to be outdone, never to to fail to see the element of competition in anything in life, Eli quickly sheds his singlet, yelling, “I totally, totally look better than you!”  With Eli standing in nothing but his jock strap and boots, his abs ripped to shreds, Jake gives credit where credit is due. With just a twinge of a sound of surprised respect, Jake murmurs, “Not bad, not bad at all!”

Eli took a hard, humiliating loss in his first time out of the gates for BG East. At RHW, he took a hard, humiliating loss his first time there, as well… to Jake. But the infinitely ambitious, testosterone overdosed hot head Eli is done with his rookie initiations. He spends the next 25 minutes making Jake sweat, scream, and submit. It’s not a walk in the park, and somehow, I can’t imagine Eli would ever bother with something as ridiculously boring as taking a walk in the park. He loves this shit. He loves being challenged. He loves his low boiling rage getting poked and prodded. He loves getting pissed off, because he’s convinced that, like Dr. Bruce Banner, once he completely loses control of his rage, he’s unstoppable and superhuman.  These two toned athletes go at it non-stop, meaner and harder and sweatier with every passing moment. They trade holds and submissions, and they dance along the edge of injuring each other’s bodies along the way to their real goal, crushing each other’s egos. With just a minute left, the tables are still turning back and forth until Eli successfully wipes the grin off of Jake’s handsome face (by choking him out cold), once and for all.

Happy birthday, Eli!

Happy birthday, Eli. You haven’t been on the scene of homoerotic wrestling long, but you’ve already rallied an army of fans who are sincerely happy to have you on board.