Achilles’ Heel in Socks

I had no idea how much I needed to see Van Skyler square off against Fabrice until I was watching it happen in Undagear 29: Sock It to Me. I’m a fan of both of these beautiful men, but somehow it hadn’t really occurred to me to picture the magic that might be conjured by pitting them against one another.

Van eyes his prize

I’ve talked before about the value added for me when contrasting bodies face off. Van and Fabrice stroke that spot sensationally. It’s definitely as big vs. little scenario, but who’s big and who’s little sort of depends on the camera angle. On the one hand, Fabrice towers over Van. A wrestler staring down from a 5 inch height advantage is so inherently domineering! Fabrice is his mysteriously frosty self, cocky and quietly fierce.  On the one hand, Van’s lush lips line up in a perfect position to clamp onto Fabrice’s ten cent nips.

Magnificent muscle built for dominating lesser men

But on the other hand, Van weighs in at a reported 40 pounds heavier than the tall boy. I maintain a healthy skepticism about wrestler stats, but I buy these astonishing numbers. Fabrice is almost painfully lean, which he wears gorgeously. And Van is built like a Tom of Finland powerhouse. He earned a legitimate second place for Best Body in voting this year for excellent reasons. Frankly, I’ve suspected that Van may be significantly more coverboy than battle boy, but even if I still thought he was mostly glitz, I’d have to admit that his muscles are luxuriously thick and dense. So even staring eye-to-nipple with Fabrice, the gravitational force of Van’s vastly superior mass pulls the big/little contrast magnificently in his favor.

Van forefeeds a mouthful of his gorgeous ass!

So the set up is instantly titillating for me. But the execution turns my crank hard with both hands. One reason this is the case is watching Van calmly, confidently, and convincingly assert a commanding offense. Fuck, I’ve been waiting for this pretty boy to develop his wrestling chops. His Undagear 26 match with Payton Meadows shows some flashes of Van’s potential brilliance on offense. I’m guessing this match with Fabrice might have been recorded around the same time. Maybe it’s Fabrice’s thin man presentation that inspires the muscleboy to open up showing some sweet, powerful, gorgeous offense. He musclebullies the French beauty early and often. When Fabrice makes an effort to slip free at one point, Van growls, “I don’t think so, buddy,” and then presses Fabrice’s face against his taut hamstring and reaches behind him, pulling on his ankle and absolutely crushing the blond’s head in a vise. The harder Van squeezes, the more firmly this opponent’s face is smashed into the muscleboy’s gorgeous, mountainous glutes. There’s just so much right about this hold, but first and foremost, it’s an awesome glimpse into Van’s growing awareness of just what he can do with that drop dead gorgeous body of his.

So much for that height “advantage”

The optics are similarly perfect when Van cinches on a dragon sleeper. I’ve never really considered the mechanical physics of this move nearly as much as I did watching this musclebound “little” guy lock it onto his long, lean opponent. The results are that Fabrice is laid out even more vulnerably than most in this humiliating hold.

Van shoves his socked toes down Fabrice’s throat

The second biggest surprise to me in this match is how engaged I was by the sock kink angle. Perhaps what makes it such a turn on is discovering that the impetus behind making this a “sock fetish” match comes from Van. Fuck, he is into this! He makes Fabrice suck on his socked toes. He slowly, indulgently pins the Frenchman’s cheek to the match, quite transparently taking deep pleasure in using his socks as devices for debasing his deceptively delicate opponent. Fabrice seems irritated by it at first. Of course, being physically forced to suck on your opponent’s socked toes would be irritating, but even more than that, it feels like Fabrice is personally pissed to being made a prop in what is quite obviously Van’s kink for sock domination. So these are Van’s terms, and I am loving this implicit little insight into the lusts behind the muscle.

Shimmering muscle god

The biggest surprise, however, comes when Fabrice finally cottons on that Van is taking way too much carnal pleasure in using his socked feet as a tool for humiliation and domination. Honestly, I was already counting the Frenchman out about 2/3rds of the way through, because this was so completely Van’s match. The muscleboy, slicked up with sweat, starts flexing overtop of the opponent who he just had to literally capture and drag back to the middle of the mat before Fabrice could complete his crawling escape from the room. Fabrice becomes our avatar, obediently putting his hands on Van’s stunning muscles. I so fucking want to trade places with him right then. Perhaps that’s why I’m just as convinced as Van is that Fabrice is ready to concede, for the stark pleasure of worshiping the muscled god who so clearly has bested him. Fabrice milks it, stroking and exploring to do us proud.

Show of hands, who wants to take Fabrice’s place?

But then, rising to his feet and abruptly towering over Van, he snaps on a sleeper from behind. That’s not really the surprise. We’ve seen aesthetic beauties like Van get suckered into their own hype, undone by believing the erotic control they have over us fans will automatically translate to every opponent. No, the surprise comes as Van starts to sag in the Frenchman’s arms. They slide to the mat, with Van nestled intimately between Fabrice’s super long legs. Van pulls at the arm pinching off his carotid artery. He struggles to maintain a desperate grip on consciousness, and frankly, he’s strong enough to prevent Fabrice from sealing the deal entirely.

Van muscles a tiny bit of breathing room into that sleeper

It’s a stalemate moment, with Van incapable of escape, but Fabrice not strong enough to apply the pressure to finish him. The Frenchman slowly extends those super long legs and grinds his knees into Van’s tiny waist, using the extra leverage for more pressure on the sleeper. His legs are just so fucking long, though. Fabrice’s ankles cross directly overtop of Van’s swollen package. Tentatively at first, the Frenchman presses his socked feet into Van’s bulge to try to break the stalemate. Van groans, his face twisted in defensive strain or erotic pleasure or both.

By any means necessary

And then Van takes one hand away from his defensive grasp on Fabrice’s forearm crushing his throat, and he grabs the Frenchman’s ankle, slowly and unmistakably pressing Fabrice’s socked feet pressed even harder into his bulge. Van groans with pleasure. He cannot get enough of his opponent’s feet manually stimulating his muscleboy cock! This isn’t torture. This isn’t humiliation. This is one of the most mouthwatering specimen’s of aesthetic muscle currently competing getting his buttons pushed so completely that he willingly gives up the fall to ride this ride to the very last split second of consciousness before gasping a submission that sounds like he was just about to cum in his undagear.

The tide turns

He likes it. He loves it. And now that Fabrice knows it, he’s going to carve up this beefsteak and serve Van on a platter.

So much mountainous muscle to conquer

This is momentous character development, as far as I’m concerned. I’ve always known exactly what it is about Van that gets me instantly hard, but now we know just a little of what drives Van over the erotic line.

Van undone by his own kink

If anyone sees Van, let him know that I’ve got a sweaty pair of socks and a bottle of lube with his name on them. In the mean time, I’m cuing up that epic moment once again where the muscled beauty telegraphs the biggest tell, the most sensational Achilles-heel-reveal I’ve seen in a long time.

Button: pushed.

Best Lightweight

The year-end awards season often seems to focus disproportionate attention on the big boys in homoerotic wrestling. Superlatives like “best” seem to inevitably lend themselves to “biggest,” which for many fans may be just fine, but not for me. I have a well documented appreciation for small wrestlers, the lean boys, the “scrawny guys” as Charlie Evans proudly self-identified. In fact, I’ve got a whole lot of lightweight love to give this year, so I’m unilaterally handing an award to my favorite lightweight who I enjoyed seeing wrestle in 2017.  I’m also unilaterally deciding to focus on wrestlers under 150 pounds for this honor. It seems to me Wrestler4Hire and BG East have the deepest benches of lightweights, which I’m sure reflects something about the wrestling content across the industry. In any case, here are my favorite lightweights from action in 2017.


My third favorite lightweight homoerotic wrestler in 2017 was W4H’s Dashing Dustin. Dashing Dustin is paradox to me. On the one hand, he looks skinny enough to snap like a twig. Cameron lists him as 5’8″ and 140 pounds, which is seriously lightweight. But on the other hand, there’s something substantial and fierce about him that makes him seem like he’s bigger than he is. He is, indeed, dashingly handsome, and if he really is James Quarterstaff’s boyfriend, I hope they’re wrestling like gladiators and fucking like bunnies morning, noon, and night. Strike that.  I actually think that Dashing Dustin is way out of James’ league, and the Dashing one ought to consider trading up to a cuter boyfriend/blogger.


My second place pick is the super tall drink of diet water Fabrice via BGE. At a reported 6’1″ and 145 pounds, it’s hard to put a finger on a “scrawnier” wrestler in competition. Like Dashing Dustin, Fabrice is deceptively substantial though, and he’s a nasty son of a bitch on the mats. I don’t think I ever realized how much I need a tall, skinny mouthful with a seductively sexy vicious side until I saw Fabrice in action. I’d still like to see quite a bit more muscle on this gorgeous boy just in the interest of good health, but he’s an incredible lightweight homoerotic wrestling contender as he is.


My favorite lightweight of 2017 is easily the boyband lead singer-come-wrestler, baby boy Nino Leone. At 5’8′ and 140 pounds, he regularly tackles (quite literally) opponents 50-60 pounds heavier. I greatly enjoyed the opportunity to meet Nino in person this summer at the BG East compound, and I was delighted to discover that he possesses a razor wit and disarming charm to go with his hot, hairy, beautiful body. Nino’s epic takedown of bodybuilder Calvin Haynes this year is a perfect demonstration of how the homoerotic wrestling world is infinitely sexier and more surprising with fierce, tough, sexy “little” guys in it.

Calvin Haynes completely underestimates Nino
Nino has his way with the shocked and awed bodybuilder


Nino shows Bruno he’s not so little after all

There are plenty more lightweight wrestlers who more than deserve honorable mentions for putting up with size-obsessed wrestling fans, including Charlie Evans (5’8″, 130 lbs), Eli Black (5’7″, 130 lbs), Ricky Vegas (4’9″, 90 lbs), and Kid Romeo (5’5″, 130 lbs).

Who did I miss?

Hump Day

It’s been a while since I took a break from interviews and reviews for a more thematic post. Today, I’m thinking about that peculiar idiom, referring to Wednesday as “hump day.”  I actually missed this convention growing up.  It was some time in my early adulthood, probably perusing commentary about homoerotic wrestling, when I first heard the term “hump day.” Now, I see and hear it everywhere. I still associate it with sex, but considering how mainstream it is, that’s clearly not implied by everyone. But among those of us into homoerotic wrestling, what else would come to mind?

An enthusiastic pelvic thrust in the midst of a wrestling match is one of those relatively subtle moments that instantly turns a confrontation sensationally erotic. Personally, I get off on wrestling beyond any direct analogy to sex acts. But there’s an extravagant openness about a wrestler taking an opportunity by force to tease his crotch grinding into his opponent’s crack. It opens up exciting possibilities about stakes. It signals to those of us aroused on this side of the screen that at least one of the hunks on that side of the screen is also turned on. It’s impassioned and motivated and pulls a wrestling match out of the closet by the scruff of the neck. In those rare moments when the wrestler getting humped responds receptively, when his mouth gapes open in frustrated desire, when he’s visibly struggling with a momentary lust to get fucked by the hot hunk on his back competing with his desire for wrestling victory (I’m looking at you, Drake Marcos), then a wrestling match is elevated for me beyond any hardcore porn scene I’ve ever seen.

So, happy hump day, homoerotic wrestling fans. And a thousand thanks to those wrestlers who kick the competition up a notch with a hearty, grunting, sweaty pelvic thrust.

Drake immobilized by Skrapper’s cock – Matmen 26
Lauden Sevior starts punching Drake’s ticket – Undagear 27
Oh, look, Drake’s ass pinned to the wall by Ethan’s monster cock – Undagear 25
Jaysen Minx mounts Goren Ford’s hot ass and makes him ask himself just how bad he wants to fight back – Undagear 27 
Shocked heel beefcake Hawk Rodman’s final concession is cradling Fabrice’s thrusting cock between his cheeks – Mat Rookies 2

Typical Canadian, eh?

In all honesty, I admit that I sometimes engage in borderline stalking to line up an interview. Nothing too creepy.  At least, I hope not. But I sleuth around a bit to try to finagle contact information for a wrestler I’m wanting to chat up (for journalistic purposes, of course). So, sometimes my interviews emerge from what feels like a lot of effort, tedious legwork, and more than a hefty dose of flattery and persuasion to get a hunk to let me pepper him with questions. But then again, sometimes it just seems to happen organically. Show up someplace. Someone looks familiar, but I’m struggling to put my finger on how I recognize him. Start up a chat, and next thing I know, I discover that I’m already enjoying getting to know a hot hunk who also just happens to appear stripped to next to nothing and working up a sweat in wrestling competition on a homoerotic wrestling site I frequent. It was more that second scenario that landed me a delightful on-the-record interview with none other than BG East babyface badboy, the rosy cheeked Canadian, Hawk Rodman. He’s relatively new to the scene, thus my delayed recognition. I admit to being more than a little curious about Hawk, based on his wrestling resume at BG East and some backstory provided by the BGE website. Since I’ve written my share of those BGE website match descriptions, I know for a fact that they can sometimes include some strategic embellishments of wrestlers’ histories, so I was fascinated to see how well the PR lines up with the man named Hawk. Once we sorted out how our world’s overlap, this was how the conversation went when he agreed to go on the record:

Baby faced badass, Hawk Rodman

Bard: Hawk Rodman, I’m always excited to get the chance to talk to an up-and-comer at BG East. In your match with Skip Vance, he mentions that you’re Canadian. How does someone from notoriously well-mannered, low-key Canada find his way into the brutal, nasty, vicious world of BG East wrestling?

Hawk: Good question. When I became aware and fell in love with all aspects of BG, I emailed the Boss and told him how much I love the matches BG offers. He promptly wrote back and we connected in a chatroom. After much chatting he invited me to Pembroke to film some matches.

Bard: The match description online for your debut match against Jonny Firestorm says that you intended from the start to build a career as a heel. What attracts you about the role of a pro wrestling heel?

Hawk: Being a heel comes naturally to me, despite my low-key upbringing. I have a dominant streak that must be satisfied and usually does. People often don’t catch on to that side of me, but they learn quickly.

Bard: I could definitely see that. I hope you don’t mind me saying that you have a handsome, baby face, so it’s that much more exciting to watch you lick your lips and really sink your teeth into little Skip Vance in your Wrestle Shack match. Does it work in your favor, when opponents don’t recognize how badass you are at first?

You want to pinch those adorable cheeks, don’t you? I dare you.

Hawk: Well, thank you. I enjoyed sinking my teeth into little Skip. He was a great opponent and sexy as hell. Oftentimes, it does work in my favor, and other times I get my ass beat, like with Jonny.

Wrecked by the best

Bard: Damn, you got mauled by Jonny! What an epic beat down! Were you rethinking this whole foray into BG East wrestling by the end of that match?

Hawk: Oh, hell no! I had my ass served to me on a platter, but wouldn’t trade it for anything. Have to be able to take it as well and dish it out.

Bard: Well, the beating you take in that match is breathtaking to watch. Jonny is in rare form, and you just keep egging him on. Even when you concede, you’re swearing at him. Did you pick up any of Jonny’s deep bag of tricks on the receiving end of that beat down?

Hawk: Jonny is one of a kind! I was more focused on surviving that match and coming out in one piece!

Bard: Were you so focused on surviving that you weren’t even aware of just how hot Jonny’s body is? Because I could swear I noticed you copping a feel of his hot ass on more than one occasion, which, frankly, I think is pure genius.

Hawk samples Jonny’s ass

Hawk: (laughing) I was more than aware, and, yes, I was sampling that hot ass. I may have been down, but not dead.

Bard: (laughing) Genius! Any wrestler who has his wits about him enough to get the shit kicked out of him and still grab a hot ass in the process is my hero! I also don’t know that I’ve ever seen Jonny’s bulge so… bulging as it was in your match with him. How was it for you, when he was schoolboy pinning you and slapping down that massively stuffed pouch across your face?


Hawk: It felt more like a reward as opposed to the humiliating pin that it was. I certainly wasn’t complaining!

Bard: Although it was a very different match, I also didn’t get a sense that you had any complaints about your match with Skip Vance, either. The sexual tension in the wrestle shack was palpable before you two even started wrestling!

Instant sexual tension

Hawk: Yes we could taste the tension, and I was very eager to own him! He has quite the super twink body with a hot little ass.

Bard: It was fabulous to see your darker side in this match. Again, you’ve got that baby face, and then that’s such a contrast to when you really start to bully Skip. A couple of times you grab him by the back of the neck and toss his skinny body into a wall, and it’s so sexy to watch. Does taking ownership of an opponent like that turn you on?

Hawk grabs his prey

Hawk: That “dark side,” as you put it, is my true self shining through. Dominate your opponent and own him, as much as the match permits. Yes, it does turn me on.

Bard: I’ve got a little trigger response to hearing Skip cry in pain, so you can just imagine how aroused I was throughout that match. He’s most definitely no pushover, though. He’s scrappy and surprisingly strong for his size. Is it hotter for you when an opponent makes you work that hard for it, or would you just as soon squash him like a bug and take possession of your prize?

Hawk takes possession

Hawk: Definitely just squash him like an insect and take ownership! That rarely happens though. The one-sided squash isn’t that common especially for new guys. You have to show what you’re made of, what you can bring to the ring. Often times you’re wrestling a hotter opponent, and if you can make him look good, hopefully he will return the favor. As long as I win more than I loose.

“Fuck you, I can’t breathe!” You think I want you to breathe?!

Bard: Well, I would not be one to argue that you are an ounce less hot than Skip. And when you are really plowing into him near the end, totally in control, wearing him the fuck out, you are sensationally hot to watch dominating him. There’s this moment where you’ve just choked him to yet another whimpering, crying submission, and he bitches at you about not being able to breathe. You literally slap him in the face and ask, “You think I want you to breathe!?” Right at that moment, you can watch Skip’s smart ass, fun-and-games clowning around come to a screeching halt. … I’m supposed to be asking you a question here, but I’m realizing that I just want to fawn a little bit over how sexy you are in the saddle!

Hawk: Glad you liked the match. It was a lot of fun to wrestle him! I think it was a good showcase for both of us.

Fabrice got a handle on Hawk!

Bard: And speaking of your win-loss record, your most recent match against Fabrice was a nail-biter to the very bitter end. You struggled against his super sexy, incredibly lean body to generate some momentum. How was Fabrice able to derail you?

Hawk: He was another great opponent. It was a good back and forth match, and I will admit that he won, although I want a rematch ASAP. I may have been a bit overconfident and mildly distracted by his tight body.

Bard: Fabrice has got to know that his ass comes nowhere close to being contained in those ultra skinny tights of his, doesn’t he? Is he intentionally distracting, or is it possible he doesn’t know just how hot he is?

“He’s quite modest and humble…”

Hawk: He’s quite modest and humble, and I think he might not know just how hot he is. He’s seems to gravitate towards those skin tights, though (laughing).

Hawk’s ass belongs to Fabrice… this time.

Bard: It’s pretty sensational to watch Fabrice celebrate his victory by climbing on and grinding into your sexy ass, but I have to admit that I’m partial to watching you at the end of your match with Skip, thrusting crotch-to-crotch and sucking his tonsils out. Since you have your eye on your win-loss record, who else would you like to pound into whimpering, slack-jawed submission at BG East?

Hawk: A have a few in mind. Payton Meadows, MJ Vergara, Kirk Donahue, Charlie Evans, Kid Karisma, Christian Taylor and Brad Rochelle. I’ll have my hands full with a few of those…

Payton Meadows is a handful

Bard: You will! And you have impeccable taste. Payton Meadows is another dazzling hunk who made a huge impression on me last year. I think I remember from the match descriptions online that Payton is another Canadian. Do you and he travel in the same circles?

Hawk: Yes, we do. I’d say chances are high that we could meet this summer. He is incredible! I have a few ideas that I want to float by him, to make it as hot as possible!

Bard: Incredible, to say the least! Talk about distracting! Please tell me this “meeting” will be on camera, because I am dying to see someone appreciate his muscled ass the way it so abundantly deserves.

Hawk: Certainly hope so! There’s so much of him to appreciate, too.

Bard: Your first three matches have been remarkably different, in outcome and in style. Do you see yourself more as a ring wrestler or a mat wrestler at this point in your career?

Hawk: More of a mat wrestler, mainly because I hardly ever get experience in the ring! Hopefully that will change this summer…you never know.

Bard: So, the longer we talk, the more I keep marveling at how easy going and low key you are. So Canadian! Would the people you interact with, day in and day out, ever guess that you are actually a hot, fierce, erotic wrestler who gets off on conquering and claiming opponents?

Typical Canadian, eh?

Hawk: Only my best friend knows that. The calm, quiet side of me is what I am known for. Typical Canadian eh?!

Bard: Well, this Yankee’s stereotype of a typical Canadian. Do you mind if I ask a couple of questions about your body?

Hawk: Go right ahead.

Hawk beefs up

Bard: Well, let me start by saying it’s hot as fuck. You’re significantly beefier in your most recent match with Fabrice than in your older matches with Jonny and Skip. Are you intentionally building muscle mass for the mat?

Hawk: Thanks for saying that. I’m trying to build mass in general; not an easy feat when you are naturally lean. Although it does come in handy on the mat!

Muscle and mass come in handy

Bard: That’s exactly what I was thinking. I mean, if you’re facing down Charlie Evans or MJ Vergara, you could be super lean and still completely physically dominate, at least when it comes to sheer size. But Brad Rochelle or Kid Karisma or even Christian Taylor have enough weight and height advantage to make being lean a tough row to hoe for an aspiring heel like you.

Hawk: Exactly my thinking! Christian has the height working for him, but it would be a fair fight. I’d have to play dirty if I wanted a decent shot at Brad and Kid K! No problem there.

Bard: God, I love the sound of that. There are quite a few hot muscleboys on your wish list. Do you have a “type” that you prefer?

Hawk: I suppose a good, defined body to beat on and torture, is what I prefer. Not too fussy.

Kid Karisma has “a good, defined body to beat on and torture!”

Bard: So let’s say you’ve got Kid Karisma beaten down. First of all, an incredibly rare accomplishment, but for the sake of argument, let’s jump to that point in the match. The momentum is all yours, but he hasn’t conceded yet. He’s still a smart ass. Still talking trash and refusing to accept the inevitable. What would be your go-to submission hold to wring a screaming submission out of Kid K’s divinely muscled body?

Hawk: Good choice in victims! I would have to keep it simple and go with a camel/choke combo. Tighten it and relax just before a tap, repeat three times to wear him down to submission. Then take advantage of him, strip him, get naked myself and have some fun, cock to cock and liplocked.

Bard: Fuck! I swoon. You are so completely blowing me away. On the one hand you come across so charming and unassuming, downright demure. Then you scratch just beneath the surface and there’s this magnificently hot, aggressive, hungry grappler who can’t wait to get his hands (and the rest of your body) all over an opponent. The boys at BGE have no idea what’s in store for them, do they?

Hawk: Some of them don’t.

Bard: I cannot wait to watch you tear someone apart again. I know you said you aren’t fussy, but I’m hoping to see you get your hands (and lips) all over some serious BGE muscle. And I will personally start a GoFundMe page to pay you a bonus to be the first to strip Kid Karisma naked and grind him into the mat!

Hawk: It gets better and better! I love destroying some serious muscle!

Bard: I predict great things for you, Hawk Rodman. Is there anything else that you think fans should know about you, in order to understand what makes you tick?

Hawk: I think you covered all the bases. I’ve enjoyed chatting with you!

Bard: It’s been a huge pleasure for me. You’re generous with your time and kind with my fawning appreciation. You’re polite and articulate. All that, paired with a scorching hot compulsion to erotically dominate an opponent, makes you a sensational wrestler to watch. Thanks for your time!

Hawk: You’re more than welcome. Stay in touch!

Bard: Count on it.

Looking forward to watching Hawk climb back in the saddle soon!

Talking My Language

Sizzling hot French Canadian rookie Fabrice

I’m a little surprised by just how much BG East rookie Fabrice turns me on. His build is severe. Not a lot of guys could wear 145 pounds on a 6’1″ frame and fail to look downright skinny to the point of starving. It takes me about 2 minutes into Gear Wars 5 to decide, but no doubt, Fabrice pulls it off for me.

Fabrice likes the look and feel of Ben’s big biceps

He’s an anatomy chart at that BMI, of course. But once I get over my initial skepticism about how his super lean build might perform in a wrestling match, there’s an unbreakable vibe to him. I stop worrying about what isn’t there, and start to really appreciate this kid’s aesthetics.

Ben’s appreciates Fabrice’s aesthetics, too.

Ben Monaco appreciates them as well. I knew he would, because Ben seems to never have met an opponent he wouldn’t want to fuck. The sexual tension always runs high in a Monaco match, and Gear Wars 5 is no exception. Delightfully, however, the homoerotic gaze first belongs to the lithe rookie. Fabrice arrives on the scene instantly infatuated with Ben’s muscles. He can’t keep his hands off of the veteran, stroking and palming the Canuck’s big biceps (fuck, Ben’s been working out!). For a few moments, I’m left wondering if Fabrice is done for before this even begins, because he looks like he’s gagging for it.

Fine art

I need not have worried.  Ben is every bit as turned on by the rookie. There’s precious little dialogue, too little for my tastes because the character motivation is borderline opaque. But looking back from the tail end of this confrontation, it was always about one thing: who’s going to be in the driver’s seat once the post-match sex breaks out.

The rookie uses that gorgeous, long body to beautifully break big Ben


Not that we see any post-match coitus. This isn’t an X-Fight. But the heavy doses of body worship injected throughout the match are sexy as fuck. The erotic attraction is so thick that the competition part of the narrative veers dangerously off course on several occasions. But then, repeatedly, it’s Fabrice that slaps it back on course, typically by snapping those incredibly long luscious legs around Ben and squeezing until the beefy bear whimpers.

“Lick it. Lick it!”

This is a Gear Wars match, so be prepared for the initial gear, as sensationally sexy as it is, to get ripped off. In particular, the astonishingly tight tights on Fabrice are a marvel of modern technology, painted in place despite covering no more than 2/3rds of the beauty’s lovely ass cheeks while somehow managing to stay up. Ben’s red singlet is frankly utilitarian in comparison. But the playing field is evened out once they’re both stripped down to g-strings worthy of a Chippendale.

Ben momentarily forgets this is a wresting match.

Fabrice’s balls never quite manage to fit inside his pouch, and for that, I salute him.  That’s quite a problem to have to contend with, balls too big to squeeze into your gear. Ben somehow seems not to notice. He does, however, clearly notice the amazingly fuckable ass on the rookie, as evidenced by him digging his fingers in deep and often. In his more vulnerable moments, Fabrice is forced to flex. Ben domineers over him, demanding obedience, taunting and teasing.

“Your turn to flex for me!”

But in the battle for the driver’s seat, Fabrice is more than capable of punching things into overdrive by grabbing the bull by the horns, or, in this case, the Ben by the balls. The match turns slowly throughout, momentum ebbing and flowing, both boys taking turns on top to feel out who really belongs there when all is said and done. Hardcore wresting fans may find the diversions into intoxicating muscle worship distracting. There are bearhugs and a beautiful camel clutch, and every stripe and variation of torturous scissors that 2 pairs of hot, punishing legs like these can manage. There’s wrestling enough to stoke my kink, but the drama is psychosexual more than anything. The decisive, final submission is all about that concession.  The winner force feeds his opponent his bicep, hypnotizing him with every inch of his hot body stretched over top of the loser like a blanket.

Nice and snug

Welcome to our world, Fabrice. You’re a fine, fine addition to the diversity of talents and bodies populating homoerotic wrestling fantasies these days. I get the impression English may be a second language for you, but what you do on the wrestling mat requires no translation. When you shove Ben’s head between your legs and make him cry in crotch-to-face headscissors, your talking my language!

That smile speaks volumes!


Paris.  Sigh.

In the face of gross inhumanity, and particularly in the face of religious hyper morality imposed on everyone else, I’m reminded that being gay, adoring homoerotic wrestling, putting all that out there and letting others in the world know that we’re not alone… all of that is a political expression of liberty. In the spirit of loving on the French, let me just acknowledge a few of the Frenchmen I’ve adored.

One of the most wonderful one-hit wonder in homoerotic wrestling history, Philippe Nicolas.
Not a wrestler, but Francis Benfatto almost certainly deserves his own chapter in my “What Turned Me Gay” chronicles. Most handsome, beautifully proportioned bodybuilder ever.
Golden beauty Damiano is one of my top favorite from the French wrestling producer Wrestlers & Lutteurs.
Damien & Fabrice swear at each other in French and I cum.

Speaking of cum, French beefcake Luc Bonay seems to milk everyone he wrestles.
Another one-hit wonder that I truly enjoyed was Deni Dupuis’ playful, hotly amorous motel romp against Ty Garrison.
And what ever happened to smoking hot Nic Letellier after big Iain Scott got a hold of him?