Two-On-One Tuesday

To keep things shiny, I’m trying out a new hashtag: #TwoOnOneTuesday. No one loves a little alliteration as much as I do. Well, I know of one particular homoerotic wrestling producer who does, but other than that, I suspect alliteration tickles me more than you (which reminds me, I think there ought to be more tickling in homoerotic wrestling!). In any case, Two-On-One-Tuesdays may, or may not, end up being a thing. You can let me know what you think in the comments. But so far I like it. There’s something particularly sexy about seeing a couple of mates manhandling and mastering a muscleman, making him moan and milking his misery.

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Possibly the first 2-on-1 match that I got off on was the Tag Team Torture 2 match where Jeff Phoenix’ partner was a no show. There was no mention of who the son of a bitch was who abandoned this bulging, blue eyed, blond beefcake to face notorious heels Jose and Cruz alone.  Wouldn’t that have been a sensational grudge match sequel, when Jeff beat the living fuck out of the traitor!? Jeff held his own for a while against this 2-on-1, just long enough to make the coverboy cocky, which turns Jose and Cruz’ double team demolition that much sweeter.

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The bitter divorce of Jonny Firestorm and Calvin Haynes’ tag team led instantly to the sensationally sexy double-team of Calvinby Jonny and his rebound partner, pretty-pretty Royce Perry. I’ve nursed this fantasy pretty much every time I’ve had a rough break-up. Seriously, I always have this exact fantasy of meeting my ex in a wrestling ring, revealing the mouth-wateringly hot new model I traded up for, and the two of us beating him down, turning him on, and leaving him with blue balls.  Just me?

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Over at W4H, sexy go-go boy Christian Thorn apparently took so many brutally one-sided beatings that Cameron arranged for him to take some wrestling lessons from pro  hunks Ronny Pearl and Teddy Trouble. What could go wrong?  The classy pros put the pretty boy through his paces, but perhaps it’s too much of a good thing. Double-teamers take notes: 2-on-1 babyface jobber crushing can go wildly off the rails if you can’t get on the same page with your partner.

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It’s another pro vs. Instahunk story when Joey King takes advantage of his extensive experience to humble bodybuilder Steel in Rough & Ready 103. But Joey’s simmering feud with that other Instahunk, Scrappy, comes back to bite him in his lovely, round ass, when Scrapster joins the fray. So, sure, I can totally tune in to pretty muscleboy posers working up a head of steam on a bad ass pro.

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Regular readers will recognize this tendency I have to get totally infatuated with a particular wrestler who may, or may not, be objectively more notable than anyone else. And there we have Weekend Wrestling’s Pretty Boy Assassin. I don’t know exactly what it is that turns my crank quite as hard as he does, but I’m screaming to tag in with him when he’s getting double teamedby his official opponent, Brendan Byers, and WW’s boss man Cole Cassidy. Fuck, now I’ve got a fierce rescue fantasy churning away. Just one more way a two-on-one can turn me on!

Let me know what you think about #TwoOnOneTuesdays, and if they should stay on the menu.

Hair Pull Humpday

As I was saying yesterday, the process of curating the pics of Scrappy getting his trunks pulled prompted me to notice that he gets his hair pulled even more often than his trunks! He’s got a sensational head of hair, and those curls cry out for getting pulled. Heels cannot resist lacing their fingers through his cherubic locks and yanking him around. There’s clearly a huge market for humiliating Scrappy. With a physique that stacked, a face that pretty, and a smirk that cocky, it’s little wonder his catalog is populated by endless examples of him screaming in helpless agony, owned and abased. You’ve got to love seeing this musclebaby cry!

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In Scrappy vs. Chace LaChance vs. Gabe Steel, there are lot’s of trading allegiance double-teams, but watching beefy Gabe and Chace working over Scrappy is definitely my favorite constellation. Scrap whimpers like a crybaby when Gabe drags his fine, fine ass up by a handful of hair.

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In Ring Wars 83, Brute brutalizes the barefoot babyface every which way. Babyface bullying like this is classic, and Scrap’s screams as Brute pulls on his thick locks are compelling.

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It’s a surprising give-and-take when bearded beefcake Dax Carter steps onto the Muscleboy mat with Scrappy. Copious sweat and viciousness, like this screw-top hairpull-chinlock, whip these boys into quite a sexy froth.

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Pro bad ass Joey King strips, rips, and rides Scrappy hard in Custom Video 61. On his hands and knees, the terror in Scrappy’s eyes as Joey drags him around by his hair is such sexy drama!

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In Mat Rats 105, Joey comes back to pass on his veteran tips to hot hunk protege Rhino, including teaching that same maneuver, putting Scrappy on his hands and knees and steering him to complete humiliation with two handfuls of hair.

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Proving the point that fucking over Scrappy never get old, Joey also drags Scrappy’s sweat soaked hotness all over the Thunder’s garage mat in Mat Wars 74. Scrappy keeps working out, wracking up wrestling experience, getting smarter and meaner, and still, beefy heels like Joey tenderize him like a side of beef and humiliate him with laughing hair pulls.

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Little surprise that Scrappy takes out his pent up frustration so fiercely when he’s on offense, like in his rip-and-strip beach match against lovely blond bro Drew Harper over at W4H. Can’t you just see the ghosts of Gabe, Brute, Dax, Joey, and Rhino haunting him as he drags Drew through the surf by his hair?

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It’s little wonder he’s one of the top stars on the scene right now. Scrappy brings so much to the world of homoerotic wrestling, including such sensational handles to pull on!

Preppy’s Delight

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Zip Zarella

I sat up and took notice when Zip Zarella returned to the BG East ring last month in Ring Kings. Once again, he’s sinking his teeth into a fellow indy pro veteran trying to make that dicey crossover into wrestling for a discerning gay audience. There’s something straightforward and upright about how he stares down the classic beefsteak Joey King. Math rules, as they agree to 30 minutes in the ring to amass as many submissions as possible. When the bell rings at the 30 minute mark, whoever has dragged more taps out of his opponent is winner.

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Joey King is ripped from an 80’s pro wrestling fantasy

I’m always partial to competitive matches, so the concession that both of these sensationally equipped pros will likely score gets me hard before they lay a hand on each other. Truth be told, their hot bodies play a big role in that growing pressure in my pants, too. Joey’s got the body of a classic brawler from the 80’s. He’s like a young, much more handsome, fitter Arn Anderson. Full beard, a light coat of hair covering his pecs and stretching across his magnificent muscle gut to disappear down the front of his classic trunks. His ass is in serious need of getting grabbed. He’s handsome, with an air of inevitability about him, like a boulder rolling down hill. I like Joey. Quite a lot, actually. But for me he’s second fiddle in this match because he’s such the straight man in the scenario. He’s so upright. He’s so completely indy pro that I could just as easily get worked up watching him on TV doing the same character for the presumptive heterosexual audience. He’s such an 80’s beefcake that I almost feel like I need to keep my raging desire to shoot a load across that powerful, furry muscled gut a secret, like this is some guilty private pleasure that only I’m entertaining back in my adolescence, discovering what a turn on wrestling is.

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I’d like to do something to Zip that makes him smile like that.

Thank the homoerotic wrestling gods that Zip Zarella shows up and drags this hot contest into the light of day. In still frame, he’s simply gorgeous. I know some of my fellow fans don’t enjoy pec tats nearly as much as I do, but fu-u-uck, I love every artistic angle of Zip. He’s smooth to Joey’s hairy. He’s harder and tighter than his opponent, with sharper angles and muscle separation. He strikes a leaner profile everywhere except those magnificent legs. Fuck, his thighs are sensational, with thick, shapely quads and that fantastic bulge of powerfully built hamstrings that ebb and flow, muscle transitioning smoothly to muscle as the back of his legs meet his bulging, hard glutes. I’ve got a major crush on the boyish smile that stretches across his face when he’s coasting on top. I’d like to give his lovely, tight nipples a tongue lashing to make that pretty smile shine.

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“You’re mine, bitch!”

Joe coincidentally just wrote a post reflecting on Zip’s enigmatic character. I like Joe’s assessment of Zip as a sadist’s sadist. He “beams instead of glowers,” Joe argues, noting that Zip is almost too personable and pleasant to really qualify as a heel. I get that. I also think that a lot of what I like about Zip’s spirit is a little extra he brings beyond just a transliteration of straight indy pro to the BGE ring. When he’s wringing Joey out with a reverse bearhug, his hips thrusting forward into Joey’s meaty ass, he snarls, “You’re mine, bitch. Tap!”  The tap tallies trade advantage back and forth, but when Zip starts to get a little distance, he targets Joey’s hairy gut with knees and punches, driving him to the mat and standing on the back of his head, choking Joey across the bottom rope. “I’m in control now!” There’s ecstasy in Zip’s voice. When Joey tries to punch his way free from being trapped between Zip’s insanely sexy thighs, Zip dials the big brawler back into being his bitch with sensationally sexy nipple torture.

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Joey’s offense highlights Zip’s assets.

It’s every bit as competitive a match as promised. Joey is vicious. He repeatedly targets Zip’s balls with flailing place kicks. He leers down at Zip at one point as Zip tries to peel himself off the mat, tries to claw his way up to his hands and knees. Joey straddles his back, hops up and drives his juicy ass down into Zip’s lean, muscled lower back. Zip stubbornly keeps climbing up to his hands and knees, and Joey keeps using that bubble butt to pound him back down. Joey’s brutal and bitter and does a fantastic job of holding up his end of the suspense. But where Zip lays down tauntingly erotic subtext, Joey’s trash talk is flatly straight. He tauntingly calls Zip a geek, a preppy.  He promises to twist him like a pretzel. It’s fun and domineering. But it isn’t, on its own merits, sexy.

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Joey can’t appreciate that gun show. That’s for you and me, fans.

Zip, on the other hand, is just so fucking sexy.  I have no idea whose team he plays for on his own time, but his playful sadism dancing on the edge of homoeroticism makes me think that Zip understands that this audience is getting off on him. Some of the indy pro recruits in our homoerotic wrestling universe seem wooden and vaguely uncomfortable with the implicit nature and interests of the audience. But my intuition tells me that, at the very least, Zip is entirely cool with that. If anything, I’d guess that Zip enjoys being the object of our lusts. I can hope that, perhaps, our adoration might even get Zip hard in return.

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“I’m in control now!”

When Zip indulgently strikes an aesthetic pose and flexes his gorgeous body in victory, he does it for you and me. For that, I’m a fierce fan. I hope we see Zip swim out into the deep end and take on more than just the brittlely upright indy pros only vaguely at peace with wrestling for a gay audience. Keep looking like you do, Zip. Keeping doing what you do. It’s all good.

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Zip faces Joey’s brutality.
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Zip careens unhinged into viciousness.
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Zip takes pleasure in his work.