Giving it a Tug

More shots like this from the filming of Henry Cavill as the Man of Steel just keep winding me up harder and harder! Holy. HELL. I don’t know what Superman plot features so much facial hair on Clark Kent, but this look is really, really (really) turning me on!

I haven’t pictured hot Henry as sporting a full beard in my homoerotic wrestling imagination… yet. With these images seared into my retinas and filed away as priceless memories in the erotic stacks in the back of my brain, I’m strongly suspecting he’ll show up with lots of fur the next time he graces the pages of the Producer’s Ring (which, by the way, Google techs now tell me should be up and accessible for everyone who was recently having trouble accessing the site).

Henry Cavill with a full beard is also sending me diving into my search engines for some homoerotic wrestlers with beards. I’m not talking goatees, though I have been known to have a major crush on a goatee before). Not the soul patch (god forbid). Not the stash (though I must say I’d be up for a ride on this one…). Know what? I’m finding them a rather rare species.

Is it the stubble burn of close contact and lots of friction that makes them unpopular? I see tons of boys with enough stubble to hurt when rubbed the wrong/right way. But to really qualify as a “beard,” and not just a lazy ass 5 o’clock shadow, I’m finding precious little.  There are some “sculpted” beards that just barely qualify in my book. BG East’s Jarel Andretti, for example, has a pencil thin outline that stretches from his sideburns all the way to his chin. Same goes for his beefy opponent Jaguar, depending on the lighting. So I’ll give them partial credit for the beard (and say, yes, yes that’s one hot jobber beatdown!).

Thunder’s Arena has a whole bunch of boys who look like they just got lazy with the razor that morning, but a few who clearly have put enough forethought into sculpting the buzz to just barely skate across the line into beard territory. Big, beautiful, bubble-butted Dozer for example.

I’ll even give massive and gorgeous Mario a nod as a bearded beast, perhaps not because his facial hair looks entirely intentional, but because he’s fucking huge and I’d be afraid that he’d crush me like a grape for implying that his scruff doesn’t count.

But the real rare breed in this zoo is the full, furry, lumberjack beard like Mr. Cavill is sporting these days. The thick, hairy fur that typically accompanies hairy pecs and legs – that’s the stuff that I’m jonesin’ for right now. Ace Hanson’s appearance against Uno, for example, comes to mind. So sad to see Ace has been moved to the ranks of “alumni” since I checked out of Thunder’s last spring.

Hairy beast Rex reminded me of Steve Reeves playing Hercules in the films that turned me gay (not really). But really, Rex does give me a Steve Reeves hit, just like he gave Sledge a picture perfect bone crushing bearhug in Bodybuilder Battle 35.

Naked Kombat’s Scout has to be mentioned for the manly facial hair. He simply doesn’t have the porn body (well, not the gay porn body) that I tune into NK for, but in the sport of spotting the rarified form of a beareded homoerotic wrestler, Scout gets a nod.

Possibly the hottest bearded wrestler I’ve had the pleasure to watch (over and over) is the one hit wonder from Can-Am’s Montreal Muscle Bear Fights, Bruno Sinclair. His battle with silky smooth studpuppy Ricardo Dias puts me in precisely the same mood as where I’m picturing Henry Cavill heading in my homoerotic wrestling imagination.  There have GOT to be more bearded homoerotic wrestlers out there. Who am I missing?

And finally, I simply have to say that it’s as if Henry is reading this blog. Just when I was complaining that there are simply not enough pin up shots of hot hunks from behind in order to marvel at a wide, rippled muscle back, our future Mr. Man of Steel goes and lingers like this long enough for several camera shots. Full nelson, anyone!?

…In My Hands

Having returned to a fixation on asses, here’s yet another ode to the wonders of the wrestling muscle butt. I’ve mentioned before the particular joys and plot of the ass slap. A slightly different story captivating me lately is the ass grab.

Fine distinction, perhaps, but we’d hardly say a forearm to the side of the head is the same as a excruciatingly long side-headlock, would we? No, (to answer my own question), we would not. The slap is a humiliating strike, the playful sting that delivers the message of pain on command. The grab, on the other hand, is the more sexualized sign of ownership.
My favorite wrestling pornboys are most sympathetic to me when squeezing their opponent’s cheeks. Hands down, that’s the moment through which I’m most intimately living vicariously in the homoerotic wrestling scenario. When Sebastian Rios finds himself on his knees in front of a thonged, oiled Rafe Sanchez, he does precisely what I would do… what simply has to be done in that moment (well, at least one of the things that must be done). He slides the palms of his hands up Rafe’s gorgeous cheeks and underneath his thong. Any opponent that fails to take an adoring squeeze at Rafe’s ass is a little unbelievable to me.
I surprise myself just a little at how much I get into Bruno Sinclair and Ricardo Dias’ cub training session. Ricardo’s lingering squeeze on Bruno’s muscled glute just looks so right. That’s an authentic moment that sucks me right into the scene. Whatever else I may not quite believe about homoerotic wrestling products, I’m utterly convinced by the slow, solid squeeze of a hard ass cheek.
When it happens in the heat of battle, all the better. I totally get it when Michael Wood finds his head captured in Ross Davidson’s arm, squeezed against Davidson’s ribs and inches away from his muscled ass, and Michael grabs two, open-fingered handfuls of muscle. Sure, it doesn’t do anything to counter Davidson’s advantage. Okay, so perhaps Michael will suffer that much more for his distraction. But that’s so very much, precisely, absolutely what I’d have to do, were I in his position.
The victory squeeze isn’t bad, either. After the story is told and one man has been owned, the appreciative cup of the cheek, once again, makes complete sense to me. I believe that my libido and Kid Vicious’ hands are, in fact, psychically linked, considering he always grabs, pounds, and squeezes exactly what I’m thinking. After delightfully owning Niku Samir in every humiliating position possible, Kid takes a feel of Niku’s ass appreciatively. The drive to dominate and humiliate, paired with the lustful adoration of a loser’s physique, is just genuine in my mind.
Truth be told, I’m a softy at heart. The mutual ass squeeze, naked and sweaty, at the end of a balls out battle is just about the most satisfying denouement for my money. I don’t care for watching a lot of pulled punches, or at least not a lot of poorly sold punches, but I completely buy it when ferocity to dominate turns into mutual worship. Cock pressed to cock, hands squeezing each other’s glutes, the wet heat shared as hearts pound, chest to chest… that’s what it’s all about for me.