Thursday Thighs

While a massive slice of beef hanging like drapes on the thick, tree trunk thighs of hot homoerotic wrestlers is guaranteed to drive me insane, it’s not just massive telephone poles for legs that stroke me hard. This edition of Thursday thighs highlights that often it’s not how big they are, but what you do with them that makes wrestling legs so damn sexy!

dynastythighs
Attila Dynasty’s thighs are lean, but packed with breathtaking power!
elithighs
Eli Black is another slice of 0% bodyfat fight stud, but what his legs may lack in girth, the make up for in nearly popping the heads off of opponents.
seanthighs2
Classic kisser Sean Patrick was long, lanky even, but always knew exactly what to do with those sexy thighs (and mouth).
christianthighs
Christian Taylor is a tall drink of water on a hot day, but nobody gets out without a whimper of agony once he snaps those scissors shut.
ethanthighs
Ethan Andrews has been packing on some luscious muscle lately, but even without bodybuilder thighs, he milks such sublime suffering out of a trapped opponent.
kayarydellthighs
Flash in the pan but seared in my lustful memory, Kaya Rydell had the look of someone who could and should own a homoerotic wrestling wring as relentlessly and he owned muscle boys with those crushing, downright skinny (and not a shade less than insanely sexy) thighs.
kidleopardthighs
Kid Leopard demonstrates what years of dance training do when translated to the homoerotic wrestling mat (i.e., drive me insane with desire!).

Wednesday’s Woes

I’m entirely on board with the erotic power of a tree of woe. The ToW is an example of how some homoerotic wrestling gems simply require a professional wrestling ring.  Hang a hammered hunk upside down in the corner, his knees draped over the top ropes and his feet locked in place beneath the cable connecting the turnbuckle to the post, and there’s all sorts of a hot wrestling gold that’s suddenly ripe for picking. It’s a maneuver that signals total control over a mastered man. The subject of woe is laid out so vulnerably, his body not just on display, but trussed up beautifully for easy access to innovative methods of torture.  There’s a little crossover here between bondage kink and wrestling kink, with enough of both to show due respect to all parties involved, as far as I’m concerned.  In honor of those of you who harbor a special place in your hearts and crotches for an agonizing, dominating, body manipulating tree of woe (and I hear from you often), this post is for you.  Here are 10 ideas for what to do with an opponent once you’ve trapped him in a tree of woe.

jpwoe
Climb on top, knee crushing his balls, and celebrate like Brooklyn Bodywrecker.
coltonwoe
When finding yourself out-boxed, hang the fucker upside down and peel off his gloves to make this all about homoerotic wrestling, like Brodie Fisher.
diegowoe
Grab a dumbbell and bash your opponent’s six-pack abs, like Eli Black.
bobbywoe
Duck outside the ring and wrench the trapped fucker’s head backward, like Cameron Matthews.
lonwoe
Stop on his flowing locks and dare the muscleboy to squirm, like Ethan Andrews.
kylewoe
Stand outside the ring and threaten to rip his arms out at the shoulder, like Alex Waters.
austinwoe
Make sure his trunks are hooked on the turnbuckle and slipping off, then land a soaring drop kick to the helpless stud’s gut, like Jonny Firestorm.
shanewoe
Sit on his face, like the Brooklyn Bodywrecker.
jonnywoe
Pause and appreciate the view – and feel – like Jarret Cole.
kevinwoe
That’s right, a Tree of Woe/Bearhug/Headscissors combination, nice and snug in the crushing embrace of Cole Cassidy!

The Great Homoerotic Wrestling Kiss-Off

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from polling neverland readers, it’s never to be too confident in my expectations. For example, I’d fully have expected that semi-final match-ups would be more competitive than quarter-final match-ups. Considering the overall vote-getters from the earlier round, I’d also have thought that Rusty Stevens and Kevin Crowes were the underdogs coming in against Lorenzo “Jake” Lowe and Steven Ponce, who scored the most lopsided quarter-final victory. Not for the first time, and I’m sure not for the last, my expectations were proven wrong. Rusty’s bondage liplock on angelic Kevin  pounded the living hell out of Lorenzo and Steven’s ball-claw/face-suck combo, absolutely squashing them 95-38!  Rusty and Kevin completely bulldoze their way into the finals!  Now to decide who they’ll face there.

kissgabriel
Curly haired cherubic beefcake Gabriel takes Lorenzo Lowe under his spell.

It might be understandable that Rusty and Kevin’s potential rivals for the final round could be a little intimidated, but this is professional homoerotic wrestling.  These guys have nothing if not abundant ego-strength. For example, Lorenzo “Jake” Lowe gets a second crack at the final round thanks to his unapologetic second appearance in the semi-finals getting mesmerized by the lips of the beefy pornboy cherub, Gabriel Ross from BG East’s Wrestleshack 16. Gabriel won his own reader’s poll a while back, being voted by neverland readers as sexiest Brit at BGE, so that, along with his humungous erection, bulging muscles, and the definition of baby-face, brings serious credibility to this semi-final appearance. All of that combined with Lorenzo’s bubble butt and look of hypnotic ecstasy as Gabriel grabs his head and goes in for the liplock, makes this kiss a serious contender.

kissethan
Ethan Andrews makes a play for Christian Taylor to forget about his boyfriend (and you to vote them into the final round)!

But do not count out, never count out, Ethan Andrews and Christian Taylor. Christian, the reigning resident kissing bandit of BG East, got two dips in the well from the quarter-finals, but it was just his barely thonged, flat-on-his back, wrists pinned to the mat oral conquering by lustful Ethan Andrews in Gazebo Grapplers 15  that  earned him this trip to the semis. Cock grinding into cock, luscious, lean bodies, and Ethan explicitly on offense to woo Christian so hard that he forgets about his boyfriend, Skip Vance, back at home, add up to a stunningly hot option to potentially take these boys to the finals.

In my younger, more naive days, I’d have been willing to try to handicap a match like this, but after yesterday’s vicious, lopsided crushing, I’m keeping my mouth shut, because I have no idea who you’re about to vote for!

The Great Homoerotic Kiss-Off

Another decisive victory in yesterday’s quarterfinal propels Gabriel Ross and Lorenzo Lowe into the semis with a 37 to 26 spanking over Morgan Cruise, Skip Vance and Christian Taylor.

kissclay
Tyler Ford nearly rips Jimmy Clay’s head off to suck the trapped stud’s face.

There’s only one spot left in the semi-finals, and we have our first intermural contest of smoking hot kisses occurring in recent homoerotic wrestling releases. First, another candidate from what I think is the best thing coming out of Can-Am lately, their Pro Sex Fight series. Specifically, this mid-match liplock between Jimmy Clay and Tyler Ford in Pro Sex Fight 7. These hard hot hunks have ripped, stripped, stroked, pummeled, squeezed and slammed each other all over the ring. Tyler Ford exploits his opponent’s vulnerability as hunky Jimmy Clay hangs dazed and confused, spreadeagled across the middle turnbuckle. Tyler pries Jimmy’s head backward by the chin and slaps on an aggressive, deep liplock from behind.

kissethan
Ethan Andrews batters, then woos hunky Christian Taylor with an all-in kiss.

Challenging Clay and Ford for the last spot in the semis is one more shot from reigning BG East kisser-in-residence Christian Taylor, who gets a mouthful from amorous hunk-punk Ethan Andrews near the end of Gazebo Grapplers 15. Having stripped one another to thongs, Ethan has slowly revealed his master plan (well, plan A) to so sexually dominate the long, lean runway model beauty to make Christian completely forget about his boyfriend back at home, Skip Vance. Christian is unimpressed, batting away Ethan’s aggressive passes one by one as he holds his own stunningly intimate mat wrestling, that is, until Ethan slaps his lips down on Christian’s and makes Mr. Vance absolutely melt!

Remarkably different candidates, different genres, different production companies, different narratives all together this time. Apples. Oranges. You decide!

Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month

My HWOTM pick is very late in arriving here at neverland, primarily because I was traveling for the first 2 weeks of August. That does not mean, however, that I didn’t have time to enjoy the cream of the crop of homoerotic wrestling new releases that came out in July, and to form my opinions about which wrestler worked me the hardest. I settled on one particular wrestler who is almost certainly overdue for the accolades here at neverland, but truth be told, there was another couple of boys who were absolutely chomping on his ass vying for the title. It was a hair’s breadth between them, but I’ll save my lauding of the runner’s up and stick to placing the laurel leaves atop the head of the wrestler who entertained me most in the July new releases…

EthanAndrews

…Ethan “Axel” Andrews.

Skip Vance has described BG East’s Gazebo Grapplers 15 match featuring Ethan battling it out with Skip’s lover, Christian Taylor, as his favorite match of all time. I can understand why. It’s smoking hot. Both Christian and Ethan are in mouthwatering shape, with Ethan still sporting the bad mohawk that he earned in his Hairstakes match against my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler, Lon Dumont. The wrestling is intense, punctuated by the grunts and groans that few men can really fake with the type of sincerity you hear in this match. And, well, fuck, I’ve certainly had the odd (i.e., regularly recurring) fantasy of a vicious, barely clad heel beating the shit out of my lover during those moments when my lover is annoying me as only someone who knows me most intimately can.

EthanAndrews3

Christian, a former HWOTM, puts up a highly entertaining performance, working that cold as ice, unflappable focus he has so masterfully. But it’s Ethan that has me laughing, gasping, and unzipping as he weaves an intricate, finely balanced narrative that unfolds like a favorite novella.

EthanAndrews2

Ethan’s mouth runs pretty much continuously, as it does in most everything I’ve seen of his work. He’s got a sharp wit that cuts and slices at the ego strength of the long, tall beauty in front of him. Early on, he brings up Skip in his trash talk offense. And when it comes to Ethan, I mean “offense” quite literally. He makes no bones about his full on intent to offend, insult, crawl up under Christian’s gorgeous skin and fester like a rotting sore. He insults Christian liberally, commenting on the towering beauty’s less than stellar match record. But it’s when he insults Skip that I start to seriously appreciate the sexy-devious mind that has made many a fan before me line up right behind Ethan’s beautiful ass and cheer.

EthanAndrews8

As I say, these boys wrestle with a heated intensity that not for a moment can be mistaken for anything other than homoerotic combat. There’s humor, laced with a strong overtaste of humiliation to keep it spicy. Ethan’s crotch bulges impressively from very early on. The banter and grappling and submissions scored on one another are transparently turning these hot young hunks on (not to mention this hot-not-nearly-as-young hunk on this side of my screen).

EthanAndrews4

Christian is simply not up to the challenge of keeping pace with the intensity and focus of Ethan. There’s something almost “consuming” about the manner in which Ethan’s ripped bod wraps around his struggling opponent so fiercely. I’d say that he enjoys having as much of his body in physical contact with as much of Christian’s body as possible, but then again, there’s no need to say it. Just look at that lovely mountain hanging between his legs, particularly when he’s stripped to a totally impractical and somehow completely believable gear choice: a mesh thong. Ethan slowly reveals his master plan. Dump the twig, he advises Christian. Give lightweight jobber Skip the boot and make room in your bed for the likes of Ethan Andrews. He’s shown up not just to win a wrestling match, but to conquer another man’s lover and take what he’s won body and soul. Ethan is not just a homoerotic wrestling savant. He’s not just a ripped, hunky heel. He’s an unapologetic (hell, he clearly loves this shit) home wrecker!

EthanAndrews5

We knew it. Christian knew it. Obviously Ethan knew it. Before this is all said and done, there was no way in hell that Ethan’s mouth would fail to be planted hungrily across the alluring lips of Christian Taylor. It’s Christian’s MO, I think. Opponent’s sign up for a match because, if they beat him, they can suck face with one of the most handsome hotties on the BG East roster. I imagine he must taste like mojitos… no real reason, just the look of satisfaction on the faces of opponent’s as they peel their lips off of his. Yes, it was destined to happen that, stripped to excellently minuscule thongs, these two would stretch out across one another, crotch grinding into crotch, pec to pec, Christian flat on his back and being owned by the relentless badger on top of him, before Ethan dives in and plants a long, lingering, lip smacking kiss on him. Fuck, I love that climax. It’s the perfect apex to a homoerotic wrestling story arc.

EthanAndrews7

But it’s only after that point that Ethan suddenly grabs me by the balls and demands to be crowned HWOTM. Christian has effectively melted. “Submitted” is a polite term for it, really, because the way his body responds to being owned and tasted by mohawk stud, he’s completely ripe for the picking. Then Ethan smacks him around a little more and peels away. The smirk on his face as he looks at Christian’s prone body is hilarious. Like cruising a gay bar, he gives a I-had-that-fucker sneer toward bagged-and-tagged Christian and says that he’s changed his mind. He doesn’t want to take Skip’s place, after all. Now that he’s proven he can own Christian, Ethan announces that he’s ready to move on to his real prize: Christian’s lover Skip.

EthanAndrews6

Fuck, that is a sweet, sweet story! There’s suspense, humor, rocking hot bodies and highly competitive mat wrestling with a through-story. Hello!? This was clearly so far up my alley that I need to dig my underwear out of my crack! Ethan plays it to perfection, controlling the pace, setting the fantastically erotic tone, toying with Christian’s mind and body and then really lowering the shocking boom by leaving the stud gaping open-mouthed as Ethan heads off to hunt down Christian’s bon-bon lover. Game, set, match! I’m still laughing; I’m still hard. Ethan Andrews is undeniably my reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month. Nicely played, Ethan.

That Look

In Friday’s post, Alex posed some provocative questions about what’s said in a homoerotic wrestling match.  Specifically, whether hearing a wrestler taunt his opponent by asking if he’s “gay” (by implication meaning weak, wimpy, less than a real man, et.) is a turn-off or perhaps ought to be out of bounds for wrestling for a gay audience.  The post generated some fantastic conversation, which is exactly what I expect every time Alex puts pen to paper.  His thoughts, coupled with some images I’ve recently been obsessing over, reminded me of the flip side of the equation, as well: when without so much as a word, a wrestler turns me on full force in an instant with just a look.
Kevin Crowes looks pleased.
The recent photo releases from Can-Am of my long-time favorite wrestler emeritus, Rusty Stevens, in Pro Sex Fight 4 against Kevin Crowes, has been making me sweat buckets.  But this particular shot of angelic beauty Kevin sweaty, pumped, and swinging pipe caught my attention.  Specifically, look at the look on his face!  Fuck that’s hot.  He’s been taking a mauling at the expert hands of Rusty for eons at this point in the match.  It’s looked like Rusty’s got this adonis crushed and sprinkled over an intensely tasty dish of sex served hot, until deceptively pretty Kevin catches the veteran sex wrestling champ getting a tad too cocky, a smidge too over-confident, and just as Rusty is sizing up the slice of beef he’s about to eat whole, Keven lays him down, strips him naked, and starts pounding the hell out of Rusty’s balls.  In an oh-how-the-mighty-have-fallen moment, Kevin takes a strutting victory lap around his opponent’s vulnerably body.  All that viciousness, all the bile, all that contempt and scorn pouring out of Rusty earlier is doused, and the look of pleasure on Kevin’s face sells a whole novel’s worth of story to me.  The abs, quads, and simply gorgeous cock don’t hurt his case either!
Gabriel Ross looks hungry
Honestly, I’ve been trying my best to watch BG East’s Wrestle Shack 16 all the way through, but fuck me if I can manage to get more than about 5 minutes at a time watched before I’m stoked into delirium and exhaust myself entirely.  Holy fuck, Lorenzo Lowe (I don’t give a damn what his frat brother’s call him, he’ll always be bespectacled Lorenzo to me) is an insanely sexy little scrapper.  But damn, damn, DAMN when he’s getting his crotch ripped apart with muscle bunny fallen archangel Gabriel Ross leaning over top of him, I’m helpless.  The look of calm, chill, confident, hungry pleasure on Gabriel’s face contrasted with Lorenzo’s agony-twisted visage, is worth about 10 orgasms (and that’s not counting the one Lorenzo’s about to pop).
Ethan Andrews looks delighted.

Rock Hard Wrestling was the first to make me an Ethan Andrews believer.  Like the catty bitch I can often be, I once questioned whether Ethan was rock hard enough to qualify to be in their stable of pretty pretty muscle boys.  Ethan made me eat my words and lose load after load climbing into the RHW ring and wringing symphony after symphony out of his bulging, pumped opponents like a maestro.  Ethan tends to give better than he gets at RHW, and the look of serene delight that inevitably plays across his handsome face as he makes another gym bunny scream like a tantruming two-year old makes my heart skip a beat.  He flashes that smile at so many pitifully wailing opponents, but possibly never as entertainingly as the moments in which he catches handsome powerhouse Jake Jenkins by surprise.

Tak looks ready for his close up.

I keep coming back to Thunder’s for the humor and the subtext, despite lapses in good taste and common sense like Alex mentioned on Friday.  One of the TA wrestlers who completely catches me by surprise by how compelling a character I find him is lean, blond, doe-eyed twink Tak.  He plays twink among the muscle gods beautifully, and perhaps precisely because he stands out in the TA crowd, his lovely, lean bod sorts me out extra hard. But when Tak has both hands wrapped around the throttle and another gym bunny muscleman is at least momentarily getting humiliated by a blond, blue-eyed, babyface lightweight twink, Tak gives some sexy sexy face! His look is somewhere between a champion bronco rider eight seconds into his ride and a seasoned pornboy a split second before his money shot.

Like Alex suggested, it doesn’t take a lot to suck the air right out of a homoerotic wrestling match. Just a word, an implication of genuine contempt for the audience that slapped down plastic to watch, and at least some of us find our buzz killed. And at least for me, the opposite can also be true. As much of a fan of trash talk as I am, some of the sexiest moments that sends fireworks exploding in my head are entirely about one compelling, silent look that tells the most homoerotic wrestling story of all.

Making Jake

The next catalog apparently has a new Jake Jenkins match previewed in BG East Arena this week, in which the former homoerotic wrestler of the month squares off on the mats with always underestimated and deceptively dangerous Skrapper.  It’s been a while since I posted a dose of Making Jake, so let’s consider more of the ABC’s that make Jake Jenkins such a compelling homoerotic wrestler.
K is for “kneel at my feet, bitch!”

..kneel.  Pry your eyes away from the aesthetic perfection of Kid Karisma’s award-winning ass and appreciate the stunningly sexy dominance he has over Jake in their sexy-as-hell ring match for Hunkbash 12.  I could come up with an A-Z catalog just documenting the insanely sexy wonders (yes, that’s 3 uses of the word “sexy” in 2 sentences!) that my top contender for reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler (Kid K) does to his highly acrobatic “monkey boy” opponent, Jake.  Potentially the sweetest of all is when Kid K drags this lovely homage to Kevin Von Erich off the mat by a fistful of hair, his own stunning muscles pumped and primed, staring down at the sweaty, battered, beaten, slack jawed beauty before him as humiliatingly makes Jake kneel.

L is for leaping from the turnbuckle!

leap. Speaking of acrobatics and being a monkey boy, there’s nothing more provocative about Jake than watching him in his natural habitat, swinging from the ropes and climbing the corners of a pro wrestling ring.  The 5’7″, this top babyface of 2012 could make hay for days capitalizing on a low center of gravity and his hot, thick musculature.  Fuck that.  Jake loves to fly, like when Rock Hard Wrestling’s stud puppy, Cliff Johnson’s long lovely bod is flat on it’s back, the overhead lights spinning in his eyes, and his tag team partner a couple of miles away, helpless to do anything but watch his buddy about to get pummeled from projectile Jake.  Cliff’s tantalizing helplessness laid out like a turkey dinner delightfully makes Jake leap!

M is for pushing the mild-mannered stud too far and making him mad!

mad.  I enjoy Jake’s range.  For example, in his tag team match alongside partner Austin Cooper, staring across the ring at Lon Dumont and Nicholas Rush, he chuckles at the start of Tag Team Torture 15.  The boys in stars and stripes think that they’ve got absolutely nothing to worry about.  They’re gorgeous, powerful, and probably Coop’s biceps are about twice as thick and strong as newbie Nick’s quads.  And they’ve partnered in the ring possibly the most of any current (or former?) homoerotic wrestling tag team, establishing a rapport and sweet empathy for one another’s trials in the action.  But here, catch the look of fury on Jake’s face as Coop offers a hand to peel him off the mat after getting used and abused by my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler, Lon Dumont.  The vulnerability of all that high octane muscle having to get a hand off the floor, combined with that rising boil of rage in his eyes is such sweet character development, as Lon Dumont makes Jake mad.

N is for watching your partner humiliated as you start to get nervous.

nervous.  That finely honed empathy Jake’s developed with frequent tag team partner Austin Cooper is a double-edged tool, of course.  On the one hand, Jake and Coop can probably finish each other’s sentences like an old married couple by now, having grown to know exactly what to expect from one another in the heat of battle.  Knowing your partner’s tolerances and limits, having confidence in your partner’s strengths and loyalty… these are fine weapons to bring to bear as a dangerously devastating tag team.  Then again, all that empathy can serve just to share the suffering when one of you is getting crushed and humiliated and you’re stuck obeying the rules from your corner.  When expert sadist and prettyboy basher Ethan Andrews gets his mitts all over Coop’s soaked, bulging body, things start to take a turn for the worse for team goldenboys.  Locking Coop up tight in a camel clutch and prying his helpless head backward to show the camera the handsome stud’s tortured humility leaves Jake pleading with his partner to rally, stretching his hand hopelessly inside the ring so far out of reach, paining the fresh man in the corner to watch his buddy getting messed up and taunted, and with Coop fading fast and looking like he’s about to literally cry uncle, making Jake nervous.

O is for finally putting Mr. Mountain Dew out cold and leaving a little drool dribbling from the corner of his mouth, oblivious.

oblivious.  Jake is not at all unlike a can of Mountain Dew vigorously shaken and then popped open: a concentrated burst of energy exploding all over the ring with a sugary sweet aftertaste.  Kid K called him a monkey boy because Jake doesn’t stop moving, climbing, leaping, sprinting.  He’s a fantastic combination of grace and power, and even when he gives away a fall, you get the sense the rubber ball is just about to bounce right back up.  So it’s probably no wonder that so many of his opponents can only claim an enduring victory over him after they’ve rendered the fitness model unconscious.  All that kinetic energy, all that motion and coordination and acrobatics and emoting go slack, and the allure of a muscled athlete dozing away, completely at the mercy of another man, is the homoerotic wrestling money shot for me.  What a thrilling climax it is to watch 2012’s top heel, Jonny Firestorm, take total possession of 2012’s top babyface in 2012’s best squash of the year, Jobberpaloozer 12, when he makes Jake oblivious.

Having put in my time marveling at Jake today, let me simply offer my assurances to BG East’s winner of best abs and best debut of 2012 that I’ll be stroking his ego as well, soon!

Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month

My long absence from posting is mostly a side effect of life, however my transition from a laptop to an iPad has put a kink in my blogging accessibility.  I either need to find a better Blogger app or learn HTML.  In the mean time, I’ll squeeze in posts when I actually have my butt in my desk chair and my fingers on my desktop keyboard.  I’m coming in way late for selecting a homoerotic wrestler of the month, so among the many things piling up for me to post about, I’m putting that at the top of today’s list.  The field seems a little sparse, though that may be a function of me not having my eye on the industry in February as devotedly as I typically do.  BG East is between catalogs, and Can-Am is continuing the long drought of new wrestling releases (last October!?).  Thunder’s has a new bright, shiny toy dangling in front of my eyes that goes by the name of Dakota, who’s suddenly appeared in 3 new releases earning nominations for him as well as Lex, former HWOTM Z-Man, and sweet piece of meat Ken (Mat Rats 36, 34 and 31 respectively).  I also love a fratboy vs bodybuilder mismatch, so Tak and Specimen get in line for contention with Mat Rats 32.  I’ve already waxed infatuated about Rock Hard Wrestling’s Stretched and Split, in which triple threat Will Stanley (body, tats and accent) takes a licking and keeps on ticking against perennial badass punk Ethan Andrews.  New kids on the block, Muscle Domination Wrestling, are scratching an itch left from the silence of Can-Am lately, proving they’ve got their eye squarely on the gay wrestling kink audience with Morgan Cruise and Tony Law wrestling naked in the ring (now that’s a formula for success!) in their VIP lounge downloads of Naked Nut Grab and Steamy Wrestling (the product names aren’t nearly as innovative as the matches themselves).  SteelMuscleGod again teamed up with my guilty pleasure, Wimpy Boy, for a delightful head scissors exhibition, getting a nod and a nomination from me for February’s hottest performances.

Is it my imagination, or is the field unusually shallow this month?!  Not to say anything negative about any one of the nominees (mostly because that just gets me in trouble),  but I have to say, in the aggregate, the average homoerotic wrestling release for February 2013 was simply not as hot as I’ve been accustomed to lately.  Wasn’t it just a few months ago I was referring to our new Golden Age of homoerotic wrestling?  I’m officially putting out a call for suggestions for a new homoerotic wrestling fix, because while Can-Am has gone dormant and when BG East is between catalogs, I’m missing something new, innovative, and inspiring.  Muscle Domination looks like my best chance for a new infatuation, but the video quality and quality of wrestling needs to continue to improve to keep up with their creativity.  SMG just has to growl and I’m turned on, but his wrestling fetish work is more fetish than wrestling lately, hampering his chances at being a headliner in the field.  That said, there’s one wrestler who I’m calling out of this field as decidedly above average, who legitimately revved my engine and made me swoon.  If this field were tighter, he might not have managed grabbing the ring, but that shouldn’t minimize the effect that this particularly enjoyable muscle hunk had on me in February.  With all of those caveats and words of caution out of the way, my newest pick for homoerotic wrestler of the month is…

… Rock Hard Wrestling’s Will Stanley.

I’ve already given a detailed blow by blow of this match, so I’ll try not to repeat myself too much.  The first thing that grabbed me about Will here is the skin-tight-cat-suit of a singlet he wears.  I’m not nearly as focused on gear as I know many of you are, but damn, damn, DAMN, Mr. Stanley wears that singlet OUT!  There’s something gorgeously classic about the gear choice that gives me a hit of watching old British pro wrestling on youtube.  And it proves the old adage that sometime the sexiest outfit is not the skimpiest.
Nylon clad British beef

Lovely Will looks like he was poured into that navy blue nylon.  It sucks to every eye catching bulge and cranny.  When Ethan is doing what, arguably, Ethan does best (showing off the muscled bod of an opponent), there’s something insanely tactile and alluring about Will’s bulging crotch, powerful pecs, and those sweet as honey muscled glutes he’s packing inside of that stunningly stretched fabric.

Like me, that skin tight singlet just wants to cling to that gorgeously muscled body!

It’s Will that goes for ripping his opponent’s singlet straps down first, scoring him major league points in my estimation.  He nothing but contemptuous of Ethan’s lean bod, but that doesn’t stop him from dialing up the heat by exploiting a moment of vulnerability and peeling Ethan’s singlet straps down.  Score a big one for the physique star!  Ethan follows suit not long afterward, and sweet mother of god, the Britboy’s torso is once again classically stunning.  I love how the singlet is so fucking tight around his torso that it stays plastered to his upper abs for quite a while as Ethan returns the favor of exploiting his opponent in a moment of vulnerability.

Will shuts his eyes tightly to pretend his humiliation isn’t being caught on camera.

Those shiny, straining, flexing pecs, veiny delta, and writhing six pack abs tortured in the ropes is pretty much exactly why ring wrestling is automatically more erotic for my tastes by a factor of about 10.  The combination of agony contorting Mr. Stanley’s handsome face and his determined prediction of Ethan’s impending doom, even as Ethan has him by the shorthairs, is fantastic.  Score yet another big one for my growing infatuation with the Brit beauty.

That skinny git just fucked me up!?!?
Ethan takes the first fall with a submission.  Will is a supremely tasty treat flat on his back with his eyes closed as if refusing to see the truth that a “skinny kid” like Ethan just schooled his seriously fine ass.  That Ethan does not capitalize on the moment to pry this bulging stud the rest of the way out of that epic singlet is 2% an indictment of Ethan and 98% an indictment of Rock Hard Wrestling, I think.  We know for a fact that Ethan is well aware that his expert work is being consumed ravenously by gay fans aching to see him own this vulnerable hunk of British beef (no horse meat here!). And if Mr. Stanley isn’t fully aware of the star power packed inside that unrealized moment of getting stripped to a more modest layer of fight gear, with a bod like that he should be.  We’ve seen him in gorgeously tight trunks, so the missed opportunity of watching Ethan pull out a crow bar and peel that sucker off as Will lies there checking his ego is hard to watch.

Will’s muscles, like his ego, swell stunningly once he’s got momentum going his way.
Not hard to watch, however, is Will’s body as it seems to swell like a balloon the harder he works and the sweatier he grows in this match.  Those shoulders alone seem to take him from from a 44L to a 48L suit coat in about 5 minutes.  He’s got lovely everything, of course, but that hip tat peaking out over the top of his peeled down singlet is simply awesome, and further evidence both of the allure of a teasing glimpse and the missed opportunity of not ripping that navy blue nylon the rest of the way off of his body.

British beef pretzel

Ethan makes Will hurt (score Ethan!), a lot, often humiliatingly.  Seeing a big, powerful, sculpted body like that owned and contorted as big Will’s face twists like a tornado is fantastic homoerotic drama.  When Ethan is pounding out riding time, there’s not a corner of Will’s body that isn’t displayed to perfection and served up like the 4-star dish it is.  Will takes a beating and gets tied up like a pretzel, and a 6’1″ 185 pound gym bunny who can pull that off and still rack his opponent like a barbell and pump out squats in the middle of the ring at the end of it all is an obvious contender for my affections.

Ethan stares up at the face of my new homoerotic wrestler of the month.
Will Stanley has a long way to go if he’s going to be a serious staple in my diet of recurring favorite homoerotic wrestlers, but he’s got a golden foundation of beautiful muscles and a sharp wit made all the more cutting by a working class English accent.  He doesn’t entirely own the ring, so I’m longing to see his ring skills get as pumped up as those massive deltoid muscles.  But he does, however, own Ethan Andrews delightfully and decisively, stroking my fantasies and keeping my eyes riveted on his every move, clinch, flex and strut, earning him a relative newcomer’s uncharacteristic awarding of my homoerotic wrestler of the month.  Keep up the good work, Will.

Where’d Your Banter Go!? Where’s Your Mouth!?

A trash talking, 6’1″ fitness model with an English accent… hello, Mr. Stanley!  Stretched and Split is Rock Hard Wrestling’s latest release starring said Britboy, Will Stanley.  The whole package is delightful, but those shoulders and that sexy as fuck hip tat are out of this world.  This match between Will and frequent tormentor Ethan Andrews is deeply satisfying and a gorgeous study in contrasts.

Will Stanley’s sculpted muscles glisten as he taunts and dominates Ethan Andrews

Will is jumping rope in the ring as the scene opens.  He rocks that skin tight navy blue singlet so hard it makes me gasp.  Some gear excels by it’s strategic absence, the expanse of skin left exposed.  Will’s singlet is stunning (well, Will is stunning in it) because of it’s presence, the obvious strain of the fabric as it molds to the bulges and crevices of this beautiful specimen.  It looks like something out of a 1950’s film, white piping, modestly square cut around Will’s powerful thighs, molded high up underneath his arms and covering at least half of the expanse of his broad chest. But there’s little left to the imagination.   His pecs and bulge bounce underneath as he dances on his toes, the jump rope moving so fast it’s pretty much invisible even in high definition.

Ethan has been on a roll, kicking hornets nests and picking fights with physique stars.  As he climbs into the ring with that permanent smirk tattooed on his face, he adopts a poorly executed faux English accent and snarls, “British wanker!”

I haven’t seen the tag team loss Ethan reminds Will of, but apparently Ethan was on the winning end of a double pretty boy beatdown over Will.  Ethan suggests that Will should probably be on the market for a better partner to watch his back (count me in!).  “I’m not interested,” the Brit snaps.  When Ethan finally tells the Brit to get out of his ring like the queen dismissing her subjects, Will is not amused.  “No, you can leave now. I was in the middle of my training.  I was here first.  It’s not your ring anymore.  I told you this. Off you go, come on.”  That “off you go” delivered with an English accent (and packaged inside an incredibly sculpted body) makes me laugh and adjust myself at the same time.  In those three words, he successfully communicates his contempt for Ethan, shooing him away like an adult slapping the ass of a petulant child.

In return, Ethan sucker punches the stud in the gut.  Ethan’s genius is his ability to set the pace, mount a pounding offense, and completely sell his capacity to not stand toe-to-toe with a towering physique star like Will, but out hustle, out maneuver, and dig deeper into his bag of dirty tricks to outsmart an opponent possibly overconfident in his superior conditioning.  He pounds Will with fists, backing the big Brit into the corner.  He’s relentless and focused, raining down blows that seem to make the lovely muscle stud wilt.  And yet, even while being choked beneath Ethan’s boot in the corner, the Brit stud sounds like he’s the one on top.  “You got nothing!  You should be taking notes!”

Ethan takes Will’s bulging muscles to the ropes early to knock the big man down to size.

Will’s mouth is the unexpected break out star in this match for me.  Early on, I have no idea if all those luscious muscles will be enough to dig the Brit beauty out of the hole Ethan digs for him, but holy hell, that trash talking, English accented mouth on Will is fucking awesome!  Ethan traps the stud in the ropes, stretching out Will’s beautiful muscles vulnerably as the heel pounds his mile wide back with kicks and knees.  He’s in a completely defenseless position.  Ethan is making mincemeat of all that glorious beef.  And still, it’s Will who snarls, “You just wait till I get up!” Ethan sits on his back, riding him like a thoroughbred while choking Will in the the rope.  “Enjoy it while you can, huh!” Will growls, demonstrating that even with Ethan’s entire bodyweight bearing down, he can’t hold the powerpacked Brit down.  “You put some more weight on there and it’d be so much more effective… fucking string bean!”

The “fucking string bean” owns the fitness model throughout most of round 1.

Ethan’s further genius is his accomplished skill at setting a plate.  Just like he did so gorgeously with Lon Dumont in BG East’s Hair Stakes match, he dishes up Will’s incredible physique tantalizingly.  With a backbreaker, he shows off the Brit’s sculpted body underneath that teasing singlet, prying the big boy backward and highlighting the beautiful beef in his pouch.  While Will’s obviously a serious athlete, Ethan’s clearly the one with superior ring savvy and wrestling experience.  He transitions from hold to hold smoothly and decisively.  A single leg crab allows the heel to punch the shit out of Will’s hamstring, sitting low on top of the Brit’s meaty ass.  Milking the hold (for possibly a fraction too briefly… RHW’s achilles heel, I think), Ethan abruptly flings the captured leg down and quickly scoops up the Brit hunk, giving that stunning muscled ass a squeeze on the way to slamming his back into the mat.

I want to lick that tricep!

Will grabs hold of the offense his first chance, outmuscling the heel and quickly mounting him, planting those big hands around Ethan’s throat and throttling him.  “Told you it wasn’t going to last long!”  The Brit’s got some smooth skills as well, transitioning to an arm bar and threatening to snap Ethan off at the elbow.  “How’s that feel, huh?” Will mouth woos me.  “You like that, huh?  You won’t be using this arm for a little while!”  It’s Will who peels the singlet straps off of Ethan first, to get a better view of the geography he’s raining down blows into.  Back on mount, he bashes Ethan’s gut with fists and then digs his fingers deep into the heel’s powerful core.  “How’s that feel, huh?  One day you might have abs too, huh?”

“Since you like strapless so much…!” Ethan returns the favor, exposing the muscle hunk’s torso.

The Brit beauty pushes his luck and leaves himself open for Ethan to reverse, which the veteran does commandingly.  “Since you like strapless so much,” Ethan peels the straps over the big man’s bulging shoulders.  Holy shit!  Forcibly half-disrobed, Will is amazing!  And that singlet is so insanely tight it clings to his ribs even as Ethan rains down blows into the big man’s mouthwatering pecs.  “Lookin’ and what you could have!?” Will taunts again from the bottom position.  Ethan’s transition to a Boston crab makes the big man groan, but on the receiving end of it, Will still taunts, “My abs needed a little stretch.”  The heel takes the stubborn muscle stud back to the ropes to stretch out that eye-catching torso.  Will’s pecs glisten under the lights as Ethan pounds his fists into it.  He endures the punishment admirably, but when Ethan threatens to decapitate the handsome hunk, literally hanging from Will’s neck, the Brit beauty finally gives away the first fall.  “God save the queen?!” Ethan snaps derisively. “God save YOU!”

“God save the queen!?  God save you!”

Staring with round 2 and lasting through the end of the match, Will has dragged his singlet straps down low, showing off the ink stretching from his hip and disappearing underneath his gear pointing toward his crotch.  His lucious ass cheeks bulge out over the top of the fabric sagging.  Ethan maintains the momentum for a while, latching onto Will’s injured leg like a terrier and pounding the shit out of is with stomps, knee drops, and kicks.  “Let’s see you try to stand on that now!” The heel’s rear naked choke once again displays Will’s mouthwatering bulge and naked torso stunningly. “I bet you’re wishing you were in England right now, snacking on your fish and chips!” smart mouthed Ethan taunts.

“Pretty good for a little guy, but it’s not going to last!” Will snaps right back.  That cocky banter from below turns me on so hard!  When Ethan mounts the stud and pummels his abs, the physique star flinches and flexes defensively, but through gritted teeth he maintains his hold on the verbal/psychological offense.  “I’m used to that shit.  It’s called conditioning.  You should try it!”  The stud remains Ethan’s bitch for a couple more minutes of increasing humiliation, including getting slammed into the turnbuckle and then mounted by his lean opponent, Ethan’s ass pounding up and down on top of Will’s sculpted chest.  Ethan slaps him in the face.  “Wakey, wakey,” he taunts.

Will’s most awesome, wild ride.

It might have been wise to leave the fitness model half asleep, because the moment Will leap frogs over a clothesline attempt, Ethan’s in for a shit load of muscle bullying.  All that smart ass trash talk from Ethan, all that muscle torture, suddenly gets served back to him in spades.  Will traps Ethan in the rope and begins the prolonged revenge session.  Again, too briefly he lets go of his opponent’s vulnerability in service of keeping up “the action” (which, I would argue, is actually secondary to selling the bone and soul crushing domination… but maybe that’s just me), but happily he quickly captures Ethan’s head between those gorgeous, massive, milky thighs.  “Feels good, huh!?” the Brit returns to wooing me.  Yes, yes, yes! I yell at my screen.  Where, oh where can I sign up for that ride!?

Will reminds Ethan of the insult he inflicted upon interrupting Will’s work out.

There’s a feel of an avalanche behind the muscle stud’s offense as he dominates more and more overwhelmingly.  Multiple times he leans over, peels Ethan flat off the mat, and hoists the battered heal up into his arms.  A rear bearhug nearly makes me explode as he bounces Ethan up and down, his pelvis thrust forward against the heel’s ass (me next! me next!).  It takes a lot to out trash talk Ethan Andrews, but as the wrestling offense slides securely into his grasp, Will’s arousing banter does nothing but turn hotter.  “You got nothing on me!” he taunts.  “Come on, get up!” he insists, only to kick Ethan back to the mat when he tries. “Because you disturbed my little training session,” Will uses his jump rope to choke Ethan.  He doesn’t need to at this point to even the score, but the submission isn’t Will’s primary purpose here, because he knows what he’s doing.  His purpose is to tell the story, which he does with skill that surprises and delights me.  “You got puny little legs, you need to go do some squats,”  he sneers, peeling Ethan backward, threatening to break his neck and/or back (whichever goes first).  “Look who’s beatin’ you!” the Brit snarls, pulling on Ethan’s hair to pry his face backward to look at his tormentor eye to eye.  The helpless heel submits. “Get out of my face, you disgust me!” Will snaps, throwing Ethan’s face to the mat and climbing to his feet.  He stalks in circles around Ethan’s body.  “Come back when you’re in my weight class!” he sneers down.

“Look who’s beatin’ you!”

As they start round 3, I’m completely sold on Will.  I’ll lose as many loads as the next guy on the muscled beauty who gets bashed and beaten by the less physically conditioned but more savvy opponent, but a big, beautiful, powerfully muscled, cocky as hell, masterfully trash talking fitness model (with an English accent!!!) can have me body and soul and leave me pulling for the muscle bully to work his magic.  When they lock up in a collar and elbow, Will taunts, “This is when muscle comes in handy, man!”  And true enough, he outmuscles Ethan and captures him in a gorgeous side headlock, grinding the heel’s face against his flexing pec and dragging Ethan stumbling around the ring.  “How’s that, comfortable, huh!?”

As the action is nearing its climax, Ethan shocks his powerhouse opponent with another attack on those  lickable legs.  He dishes up another gorgeously presented plate of muscled vulnerability, grapevining and then spladling the Brit hunk’s legs open wide, ass toward the ceiling, and threatening to rip him apart at the crotch.  “How does that feel!?” Ethan snarls, exhaustion evident in his voice.

“It’s fine!” Will grunts through gritted teeth. “I can deal with it!”

“It’s fine!  I can deal with it,” Will grunts back, obviously in pain but perhaps not quite as exhausted.  Perhaps serving up the ultimate I-told-you-so, it’s Will’s conditioning that seems to be the story as Ethan can’t keep his grip on the offense.  Will muscles free and back on top, decisively securing a standing surfboard that threatens to rip Ethan’s arms out at the shoulders.  The heel is fading fast, and Will delights in slowly (that’s what I’m talking about!) dragging his opponent to his feet by fistfuls of sweaty hair, only to taunt him and throw him back down again.   “Look at me when Im beating you!” the cocky Brit barks, rolling Ethan to his back.  Ethan’s done.  You know it.  Will knows it.  Ethan knows it.  The Brit looks down at him and can’t help but laugh.  “Look at you man!  Are you strugglin’?”  he uses Ethan as a punching bag in the corner.  He powers out a beautiful snap suplex out of the corner, slamming Ethan’s lower back into the center of the ring.  “Come on, get up!”  he taunts, throwing Ethan over one shoulder in a backbreaker and bouncing up and down as Ethan wails.  He pumps out some taunting squats with his opponent hanging over his shoulder helplessly, Will showing off his gorgeous quads.  About 2 minutes after we all saw Ethan’s doom written on the wall, the stunned heel gives up again.

“Where’d your banter go!? Where’s your mouth!?”

And then demonstrating a sadistic genius of his own that I didn’t know to expect from him, Will looks down and growls, “You know I don’t think that was enough.  I’m still not happy!”  He drags Ethan back to his feet to snap on a sleeper.  Ethan slowly sags in Will’s overwhelming muscle embrace.  “Where’d your banter go, huh?” Will taunts as Ethan goes slack in his arms.  “Where’s your mouth?” he asks as he puts Ethan out cold.  “Exactly what I thought! You sleep well, buttercup!”

This has been a tough couple of months for Ethan’s new releases.  My reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler,  Lon Dumont sleepered him out cold and shut up his smart mouth decisively for BG East in Hair Stakes, and now big and beautiful Will does the same for RHW.  All I can say is keep up that fantastically sexy work, Ethan!  Pick another fight with a stacked muscle stud because I (like I suspect you) seriously enjoy the muscleboys battling back to beat the living shit out of you and shut you up in the only way that seems to work.  And Mr. Will Stanley, I can’t wait to see you barely squeezed into that singlet again, and just as importantly stripped out of it on your way to bullying and beating up another smart mouthed punk!

Crowning a New Champion

Lon Dumont: my instant infatuation

The first glimpse I ever had of Lon Dumont piqued my interest.  He was handsome and lean with beautiful muscles and a strikingly hot shaved head.  Sprinkle some salt in the crevices between his six-pack abs, stick a slice of lime in that mouth, and I’ll bring the tequila!  But while Lon was undeniably attractive in still frame, when I saw him wrestle Eddy Rey in what I still think is the sexiest forced-to-flex match I’ve yet seen, I was completely captured.  The swagger, the strut, the cocky trash talk… before Eddy even hoists his long muscle bod over the top rope to climb in, Lon already had me completely entranced.  Then that body and that attitude providing the platform for a completely self-possessed, high quality pro wrestling beatdown sold me lock, stock and barrel.  It didn’t take long for him to slide his hot ass into the top ranks of my favorite homoerotic wrestlers.

Lon is all smiles and good natured respect before a match
Lon was a finalist for votes in BG East’s Top Heel of 2012, but honestly, I think he’s hard to pigeonhole.  He typically starts out a match on an optimistic note.  He’s usually the first to show some respect for an opponent.  Out of the starting gate, Lon is more self-assured, good-natured, and witty than vicious, snarling or hell-bent on humiliation.  But then poke him a bit, as opponents always do, and you’ll get a rise out of him.  He’ll go from 0 to 60 in a split second.  It’s common to hear Lon muse wistfully, “It didn’t have to be this way,” in brief pauses between pounding the shit out of a dazed and confused opponent.  I get the impression Lon would enjoy it if his wrestling matches were gentlemanly contests of strength, skill and stamina between mutually respectful athletes.  Is this the mindset of a heel?  I’m not sure.  Then again, once he’s been provoked, once yet another cocky hunk has miscalculated the incredibly lean, aesthetically gorgeous physique star, the depth of his snarling, punishing cruelty is an astonishing thing to watch.  Thus provoked, the brutality stretching from corner to corner, trapped in the ropes, hair pulled, contempt raining down as Lon isn’t satisfied with literal victory, but insists on delivering complete humiliation and ego crushing psychological domination, certainly has the strong whiff of a highly accomplished heel.
Big Joe shows no respect
In Lon’s terribly mismatched ring battle with giant Joe Robbins in Gut Bash 8, he invited the massive side of beef in the ring with him to compare physiques.  As with most masses of muscle who climb into the wrestling ring, Joe is looking at different criteria in his side-by-side comparison.  Aesthetically, considering proportion, definition, overall conditioning, and the balance of leanness with muscle mass, Lon my be 95 pounds lighter and over half a foot shorter, but he’s head and shoulders above big Joe.  Lon gently insists on respect from the big man (which, of course, he doesn’t get) on every comparison of body part by body part until they get to flexing their quads.  Lon is the first to acknowledge that big Joe simply has him beat in that department.  Honestly, one of Joe’s upper thighs is about as thick as Lon’s waist (which says wonders about both bodies), but Lon puts it right out there that he’s got major work to do to get his legs in as mind-boggling a shape as his diamond carved abs.  Big Joe doesn’t give a flying fuck about Lon’s bodybuilding trophies and near approximation of perfect physical conditioning. The 240 pounder beats the living daylights out of my long time wrestler crush, determined to prove the point that his own undeniably strong, less defined abs are more “useful” than the living anatomy chart next to him.  I’m unconvinced that he proved that point, rather than establishing the fact that a 7 inch height advantage and a 95 pound weight advantage is hard to beat.  For my tastes, Lon takes the mugging like the champ he is, as exquisite in dining on suffering as he is on dishing it out.  But I’ll admit that my long-time infatuation with him strongly influences my interpretation of events.
Lon keeps improving on perfection

Lon has since been superseded in the ranks of my favorites by ass-tastic party boy Kid Karisma, but that’s hardly the extent of the changes.  As Hair Stakes illustrates, Lon is nothing short of shaggy these days, coming an incredibly long way from his former shaved scalp.  And of course Ethan Andrews is a mop head as well, establishing the highly entertaining premise of this match: loser loses his locks.  There’s been a good deal of armchair hairstyling from Lon fans, debating which “do” he rocks the best. Me, I’d sell my firstborn to get my hands all over him at any phase of his follicle development, though I have to admit I’ve got a big, roaring hard spot for watching Ethan wrap his fingers in Lon’s curls and drag him screaming across the ring.

Lon’s got a new hairdo and brand new bulging quads!

But holy hell, let’s not allow the title and explicit story of this match to distract us from the rest of what’s developed about Lon since I first fell in lust with him in Fantasymen 32.  He’s been through about 2 and a half competitive bodybuilding seasons since then, and his already worship-worthy body has come a long way.  Most provocatively for this viewer, Lon’s legs are phenomenal!

Hair Stakes, definitely… but look at those upper legs!

He’s certainly not going to get any more respect from big Joe Robbins, I’m sure, but a casual observer (or a rabid Lon Dumont fanatic, like me), has got to admit he’s packed on muscle mass while maintaining that insane, lean conditioning.  I think it helps that he’s not wearing knee pads, so we can see the mountainous heads on those lower quads (note to Lon: don’t wear knee pads).  But no one in their right mind can argue with the fact that like his hair, his legs have come a long, long way.

Lon takes the situation firmly in hand.

Having obsessed about his phenomenal body yet again, let me also repeat that Lon’s mouth continues to be one of the sexiest assets this stud brings with him in an already deep, deep arsenal of sexy assets.  Ethan is also a notorious trash talker.  His bread and butter at Rock Hard Wrestling is taking pretty muscle boys by surprise and destroying them in body while crushing them in mind and soul with his razor sharp tongue.  And perhaps that was his game plan when he climbed into the ring with Lon: one more muscle head to be taken for granted by only to out hustle with experience and dirty tricks along the way to watching them whither underneath an endless onslaught of ego bursting trash talk.  Verbally, the offense is Ethan’s from the start, because you know, Lon would have been just as happy to settle this like gentlemen.  Ethan is many things, but I can’t imagine he gets called a gentlemen often at all, at least not by his opponents.  He tells Lon he looks like a lesbian, which gets a slight chuckle and an eye roll from the bodybuilder.  Ethan drips condescension as he suggests Lon looks like a cancer patient in a bad wig.  Lon sneers and throws in another eye roll at both bad taste and poor humor.  But when Ethan suggests that Lon has crows feet, and that he’s probably getting too old to stay in the high impact game, Lon’s foot puts the pedal to the metal.  Note to future opponents: Lon does NOT like being mistaken for someone older than he is (how old is he?!).

Ethan is a master at serving up a dish of battered muscleboy most appealingly.

At the top of Ethan’s assets in homoerotic wrestling is his uncanny ability to not only make a pretty muscle boy suffer, but to display him so seductively.  When on offense in Hair Stakes, this match is no exception for him. He squeezes and stretches Lon’s bodybuilding competition-ready physique mouthwateringly.  He’s savvy and vicious and tenacious like a terrier (which is incredibly hot to me), and he sprinkles in verbal domination and slowly humiliating corporal punishment into this incredibly (and hilariously) sexy battle in which long hair is used by both battlers in delightfully creative, agonizing ways.

Lon’s lovely hamstrings and perfectly positioned ass!

With the extensive experience of both of these wrestlers, it should come as no surprise that the pace is relentless.  There’s little time spent jockeying for who’s on top because both boys are decisive and expert at applying holds.  It’s a chess match.  Move and counter, advantage secured then lost.

Lon’s curls bounce as he locks on a game changer.

But like so many smart ass hunks before him, Ethan can’t quite keep up with Lon’s barrage of trash talk or his mastery of the ring.  Lon subdues the scrapper by shutting his mouth for good, putting him out cold and displaying almost every one of his own mouthwatering muscles to perfection each step along the way.  Between being so beautifully displayed by young Ethan and then showing what all those pretty, pretty muscles are good for, this match does something momentous to me.  It stokes my Lon-mania back to full blast and results in the rare event of a change in the rankings of which wrestler owns me the hardest.

I’d trade places with Ethan here any… damn… time!

That’s right, Lon has upended (which, let’s face it, may be Kid Karisma’s best side anyway) Kid Karisma to decisively make me put the crown of my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler on his shaggy head.  Kid K is no more than half a step behind him by my count, so the competition is arousingly tight for the title.  I still give Eli Black the edge on a match by match comparison of Hair Stakes with Gut Bash 10 for the homoerotic wrestler of the month title.  But in the overall rankings, Hair Stakes gives Lon just the boot up on idle Kid K that he needs to climb to the top and sit very, very pretty.