Always the Bride’s Maid

 

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Mr. Joshua Goodman is back in black

Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!) has got to be one of the most underrated wrestlers at BG East. I admit, I’m biased. I’ve been sending love letters to his crotch for years now. But objectively speaking, Mr. Joshua is seriously dangerous in the ring, and getting more so the longer he’s in the business. Opponents never seem to recognize the threat until it’s too late. I suppose it’s easy to underestimate someone so sensationally pretty. One might easily assume that a musclehunk so epically endowed hasn’t had to work as hard as others might have. I suspect I’m not the only one who would do just about anything Mr. Joshua wanted in exchange for a close up look at his marvelous muscles and that titanic bulge. So perhaps it’s understandable that opponents might think he’s more show than go.

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Chace LaChance channels his inner von Erich

Chace LaChance gives Mr. J a smirk and an eye roll before their Hunkbash 19 match. Like so many before him, Chace appears oblivious to the functional potential Mr. Joshua’s fantasyman body possesses. He just sees a gym bunny goomba who looks better suited to a stripper pole than a wrestling ring. And sure, Chace is every ounce as much a pretty boy as Mr. J.  He’s channeling Kevin von Erich, with his bare feet, taped ankles and wrists, and insanely fuckable muscle-ass. Chace is solid as fuck and fits the part of a beefy babyface with the potential to bring a boatload of hurt. Opponents and fans take him seriously in a way that they don’t always do for Mr. J.

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Chace rubs his Best Body Award in Mr. J’s face

The match appears to be recorded during Chace’s reign as the wrestler voted Best Body at BG East. It seems like he hasn’t been humbled yet by having Kid Karisma rip that title from his clutches (all hail the king!). He’s flexing in the mirror as Mr. J arrives, and when the recurring Best Bulge winner harasses him a little, Chace is quick to point out that he’s the “muscle model winner” in the room. It’s not the first time that an opponent has basked in the accolades that Mr. Joshua rightfully believes that he deserves. He’s been bitterly watching baby hunks jump in line in front of him as top ranked objects of muscle worship for far too long. He’s had his eye on being a mainstream fitness model for years, but then the likes of Chace keep making Mr. J the runner-up. My theory is that Mr. J’s mouthwatering physique is persistently underrated because no one can tear their eyes away from his mammoth package. What mainstream fitness mag, intent on disguising their inherent nature as softcore gay porn, would want to paste the overtly and over the top eroticism of Mr. Joshua’s Louisville slugger on the their cover?

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“It’s dominance time, baby!”

In any case, Chace flashes his von-Erich-esque hotness and ponders his next match, just assuming that he’s got a victory over this erotic dancer in the bag. Mr. J suddenly grabs him by the back of the head and chokes him over the top rope, making Chace’s powerhouse muscled ass quiver with shock. “It’s dominance time, baby,” Mr. J crows.

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Chace buries his face in Mr. J’s tortured muscles

It’s a hunkbash, but not entirely one-sided. Chace has been in the business long enough to know how to earn a little respect even when he’s getting buried under hard. The Best Body beefcake interrupts Mr. J’s momentum long enough to nearly decapitate him with a clothesline and scoop him up in a gorgeously muscled bearhug. It’s no secret that I love a heel, but I particularly swoon over a fallible heel. I crush on them a hundred times harder when a heel takes a little taste of humiliation and has to put his opponent in his place with just that much more authority to obliterate the memory of that fleeting moment of hope. Mr. J hoisted off his feet, every muscle clenched in agony, sweet glistening off his forehead, is hot as fuck. For that brief, shining moment, Chace is the barefoot babyface hero with a serious chance of defeating the nefarious bad ass with sheer will and hard work.

 

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Chace’s pretty face pounded into the mat

It’s just that much sweeter watching Mr. J chop him in the neck with his elbow, pound him corner to corner, and then flatten him like a panic with a sprinting clothesline. “This is muscle worship, boy,” Mr. Joshua snarls, pumping a most muscular pose over top of his writhing, whimpering, despairing victim. Fuck, I’m aching to see another Mr. J match with an opponent who’s even half as turned on by him as I am (somebody please tell me that Randy Stanton has been training with Kid Vicious for his rematch with Mr. J!). Mr. Joshua mentions muscle worship several times in this match, lording his superiority over Chace with relish, implicitly acknowledging you and me, dizzy with lust for him. He tugs at the top of his trunks and shoves his hand into his pouch to rearrange the beast within, which, let’s face it, is really Mr. J’s signature move.

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This is muscle worship, boy!”

Watch him strut and flex. Just watch him, eyes fixed on his own gorgeous image staring back at him in the mirror, but with his beautiful body turned at the perfect angle for us to adore his physique. Mr. Joshua wants to be worshipped. I want him to be worshipped. Please begin to flood the mailbox of BGE, insisting on booking Mr. J with an opponent with both the raging erotic desire to worship him, and the wrestling skills to demand the full tour.

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Chace fails to appreciate this enviable position

I digress. Mr. Joshua does that to me. Two particular holds demonstrate Mr. Joshua’s brilliance and beauty most directly. First, he wears Chace out repeatedly with headscissors. There’s just something combustible about watching Mr. J shove a man’s head high up between his thighs. Crotch pillow scissors and face-to-crotch scissors alike draw our attention like a magnet to Mr. J’s gargantuan package. Chace just bitches and whine’s about the humiliation. Fuck I hate him right then and there. He should be thanking his lucky stars.

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The Best Body getting fucked (over) by the Best Bulge

The other move Mr. J comes back to repeatedly is thrusting reverse bearhug. It’s just meant to be: Chace’s luxuriously muscled ass cheeks pressed firmly around Mr. Joshua’s protruding package.  “Fuck you,” Chace mutters impotently with Mr. J’s pole grinding into his crevice. “Did you say something, muscleboy,” Mr. Joshua openly laughs. “I can’t hear you!”

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“Did you say something, muscleboy?”

Mr. Joshua manhandles Chace more completely than I can ever remember Chace getting manhanlded before. Over the knee backbreakers serve him up like a Thanksgiving turkey. Mr. J’s squats, with Chace racked across his shoulders helplessly, demonstrate what Mr. J means when he repeatedly announces, “It’s dominance time, baby!” There’s one particular camel clutch that has Chace weeping like a sniveling bitch, begging for mercy, owned in total. Mr. Joshua throws him down with contempt, leans back and slaps Chace’s Best Body butt possessively.

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Manhandled

Fuck, this match fires on all cylinders. If you like watching a von Erich get plowed under and owned, body and soul, or if you’re even half the Mr. Joshua fan I am, pull up a chair. Mr. Joshua is back to deliver a message. Anybody jumping in line in front of him for muscle worship glory had better watch his back.

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The body and bulge to beat

And the Winner Is…

Congratulations to the winners of the BG East Besties for 2017! It was a fabulous year in homoerotic wrestling, and all of the nominees demonstrated the deep bench that BG East can rightfully boast. Some of my picks earned the most votes overall. Some didn’t.  They all (but one) get nothing but respect from me. It’s certainly not the first time I’ve seen evidence that my tastes intersect and diverge with other homoerotic wrestling fans. Happily, there’s plenty for all of us to enjoy, and awards or not, my sincere thanks go out to the beautiful men in front of and behind the camera that make BG East a leader in wrestling for a gay audience.

Sexiest Match: Sexiest Match – Ty Alexander vs. Bruno LaBestia (Ringwars 28)

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Bruno enjoys the taste of victory

 

Best Mat Battle: Austin Cooper vs. Christian Taylor (Undagear 28)

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The biggest upset of the year (not a category) had to be Austin Cooper getting owned by Christian Taylor

 

Best Ring Match: Cole Cassidy vs. Joshua Goodman (Ringwars 26)

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This hold alone is already the stuff of legend

 

Best Squash: Lane Hartley vs. Kirk Donahue (Demolition 22)

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Kirk trashed for the win

 

Best Submissions: Kayden Keller vs. Richie Douglas (Kayden’s Spotlight)

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Kayden masters the beautiful art of submission

 

Hottest Liplock: Christian Taylor vs. Mason Brooks (Bedroom Brawl 3)

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Mason aids Christian in remaining the reigning kissing champion

 

Best Overall Match: Cole Cassidy vs. Joshua Goodman (Ringwars 26)

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Cole throttles his trophy

 

Top Heel: Kayden Keller

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Kayden for the upset win over both Jonny and Kid Karisma!

 

Top Babyface: Richie Douglas

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Richie beats back a challenge from Kirk Donahue

 

Jobber of the Year: Kirk Donahue

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Fuck, I hate this jobber for beating my boy Drake Marcos

 

Debut of the Year: Zip Zarella

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Zip wasn’t my top pick, but you get no arguments from me

 

Best Abs: Kid Karisma

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Kid Karisma beats runner-up Mitch Colby for Best Abs

 

Best Bulge: Joshua Goodman

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I’m thrilled to see Mr. Joshua’s bulge beat last year’s winner, Kirk, to the curb

 

Best Butt: Kid Karisma

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Despite Ty’s social media campaign, he couldn’t rip the title away from the perennial favorite glutes of Kid Karisma

 

Best Body: Kid Karisma

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BG East fans agreed with me that it just doesn’t get any better than this!

 

And the Nominees Are…

The first half of the BG East Besties ballot never seems to generate as much controversy as the second half. Turning our focus on individual wrestlers seems to incite even more fevered debates about tastes and types and loyalties. BGE has gone six deep for each category, so there’s bound to be someone for everyone to fight over. Definitely don’t just take my word for who you should vote for, but by all means, vote. And in case you aren’t sure who you want to rally behind, feel free to take some inspiration from how I see things.

8. Top Heel

Last year Jonny Firestorm brought home the title as Best Heel at BG East. Jonny has owned this category for quite a while. The only time he hasn’t won, he wasn’t nominated, in which case Kid Karisma stepped up at grabbed the ring. This year pits these two legendary heels against each other and an equally diverse field of styles, attitudes, and interpretations of the word “heel.”

  1. Cole Cassidy
  2. Jonny Firestorm
  3. Lane Hartley
  4. Kid Karisma
  5. Kayden Keller
  6. Kid Vicious

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What a field! I’m punching an enthusiastic button for the increasingly rare opportunity to vote for the legendary heel, Kid Vicious. Although he only appeared in one product this year, it was classic KV, through and through. No one else on this list takes nearly as much erotic pleasure making an opponent suffer. My second choice would see Kayden Keller jump the line ahead of both Jonny and Kid Karisma. Kayden has become one of the hardest working wrestlers in homoerotic wrestling, and like KV, he’s growing increasingly comfortable in the role of the erotic sadist.  I’m guessing that the popular vote may still break Jonny or Kid Karisma’s way, and obviously they deserve the heel-appreciation. But as for me, KV remains in a league of his own, with Kayden quickly filling the void left by KV’s sparser and sparser appearances in the ring.

9. Top Babyface

The field for top babyface highlights how these awards reflect so much more about the fans than the wrestlers. Some of these guys I wouldn’t classify as babyfaces.  Past winners like Biff Farrell and Jake Jenkins are as absent from the poll as they were scarce in new releases this year. So one of these guys is going to take the title for the first time:

  1. Gil Barrios
  2. Mitch Colby
  3. Kirk Donahue
  4. Richie Douglas
  5. Payton Meadows
  6. Zip Zarella

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As with the heel category, I’m picking a dark horse candidate for as much sentimental reasons as anything else. Mitch Colby epitomizes the erotic-forward babyface that can only inhabit the world of homoerotic wrestling. His epic dismantling of the legendary heel Cage Thunder demonstrates perfectly the distinction that I think so many fans struggle with in distinguishing between a hot jobber and a babyface. And as his opponent has acknowledged, Mitch was in the best shape of his life for that match. I do think it’s criminal that Christian Taylor did not make the ballot. If pressed for a second place, I’d probably go for Richie Douglas. I’m uncertain what character type Zip Zarella is growing into, but he could easily get my vote for top babyface or top heel with a couple more matches under his belt to signal his underlying moral compass. This category seems wide open for predicting a popular vote getter, but I’m thinking things could swing Richie or Mitch’s way.

10. Jobber of the Year

There’s some serious range in interpretations of a jobber among the field for Jobber of the Year. Last year’s winner Ty Alexander is back in the offing, despite his pretty decisive heel turn this year. In fact, I think at least of couple of the nominees this year lack that inevitability about them that I expect to see in a jobber. Take a look at what I’m talking about:

  1. Ty Alexander
  2. Trey Dixon
  3. Kirk Donahue
  4. Charlie Evans
  5. Drake Marcos
  6. Van Skyler

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On the one hand, I do love watching Kirk Donahue get his awardless ass beat again and again. But honestly, the perfect depiction of a jobber is Drake’s match trying to reinvent himself as El Favorito. El Favorito is Drake’s acknowledgment that he’s a jobber, that he’s destined to get plowed under, despite his impeccable skills. Perhaps with a new name, Drake muses that he can start over as something other than a jobber. And then Thrash thrashes him like the jobber he is, in or out of a mask, under any name.  If I were a betting man, I’d guess that Ty, despite openly acknowledging on tape that he is no longer a jobber, may take this again because… social media.

11. Debut of the Year

There was some insane, out of the blue drama a few months back with last year’s Debut of the Year winner, Beauxregard. The category is, by no means, a guarantee of success or respect. In some ways I think Ty Alexander may be the exception when it comes to parlaying the Debut of the Year award into a solid BGE career platform. Beaux, Kip Sorell, Eli Black… it may be possible that this is a “peaked too soon” award for most (though, of course, I’m always hoping to see Eli elevate his BGE game). So this year’s nominees should beware, take nothing for granted. Winning Debut of the Year is, at best, just the start of your hard work on the way to success. The newbies who should heed this warning include…

  1. Ace Aarons
  2. Ash DeLeon
  3. Bruno LaBestia
  4. Steve Mason
  5. Toney Rico
  6. Zip Zarella

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I’m a huge backer of most of these guys, so this is another tough call for me. When push comes to shove, I’m casting my vote for one of the classiest acts to jump over from indy pro success, Ace Aarons. Ace had the skills to turn the stink bomb of Luke Lonza into a relatively satisfying squash, because he took seriously what Luke apparently couldn’t. I’m particularly impressed with his most recent mat match, laced with tons of sweat and lust, with fellow nominee Ash DeLeon. An indy pro who successfully translates his skill set to the mat and to an erotic text is quite an impressive debut, indeed! A second place pic for me would be a close call between Ash (who suffered from having only one match published for his debut year) or Zip Zarella (who classes up the place like Ace, but without the erotic twist).

12. Best Abs

2017 provided a feast for six-pack lovers.  Last year’s winner Chace LaChance failed to make the cut, and personally I think it’s largely because the competition was so spectacular this year. Also absent were previous award winners Z-Man and Eli Black. So this is another category where someone new is guaranteed to take home the trophy this year. The possible breakout abdominal stars are…

  1. Carter Alexander
  2. Devon Britt-Darby
  3. Mitch Colby
  4. Richie Douglas
  5. Kid Karisma
  6. Payton Meadows

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Everyone’s a winner in this category, but when I cast my ballot, I’m going to vote for Payton Meadows. Every inch of Payton is dazzlingly gorgeous, but his abs are exceptionally ripped, balanced, and abs-olutely beautiful. Please, please, please let us see more of him (in every sense of the word) next year. His releases are far too far in between. Second place for me this year is, astonishingly, not Kid K. It was Carter Alexander’s superhuman core that was the standout star of his squash against Kayden, and as I said earlier, his side tat screams for worshiping his sweaty eight-pack. Playing the odds, I’d guess that Richie Douglas could take the title in the popular voting this year, though I never count out Kid K.

13. Best Bulge

After years of there being one standout each season for best bulge, this is suddenly one of the most competitive categories. Last year’s winner, Kirk Donahue, is back to defend his title. Mr. Joshua, who wasn’t nominated last year but has owned the title more often than not, is back in contention. Cage Thunder’s throbbing rod not only blazed to full glory, but got used and abused by his babyface nemesis. And then there was the collective gasp throughout the homoerotic wrestling world when Steve Mason’s debut revealed one of the biggest power tools I’ve ever seen. The full slate looks like this…

  1. Ace Aarons
  2. Kirk Donahue
  3. Joshua Goodman
  4. Steve Mason
  5. Cage Thunder
  6. Jobe Zander

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I’m sticking with Mr. J in this year’s vote. His bulge continues to be so huge that it gets in the way of his wrestling. He continually has to adjust the packing. It walks into a room about 5 seconds before Mr. J does. And Cole Cassidy managed to display Mr. J’s legendary bulge from entirely new angles this year. I’ve got my eye on Steve Mason’s leviathan, though. I think there’s a chance I might be in the middle of the normal curve this time, and the popular vote might also swing to Mr. Joshua, though I wouldn’t be surprised to see Steve knock the competition out of his way with that billy club of his.

14. Best Butt

This is always one of the most hotly debated categories. I’ve already seen a certain nominee launch a full scale social media campaign to finally take home this trophy after coming in second place last year. Here’s who you get to pick from…

  1. Ty Alexander
  2. Gil Barrios
  3. Kirk Donahue
  4. Kid Karisma
  5. Noah Samson
  6. Van Skyler

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I’m more ambivalent about my vote than in past years, but honestly, who am I kidding? I’m voting for Kid Karisma’s phenomenal glutes again. They’re perfect. Magnificent, functional muscles resting atop those massive upper legs. Damn. A second place for me would be either Ty or the epic last minute debut of Noah Samson. Holy fuck, Noah’s ass is unbelievable. Not as tightly muscled and powerful, but aesthetically a work of art. I keep expecting Ty’s social media campaign to pull the rug out from beneath Kid K’s long ownership of this title. Perhaps this will be year Ty can sway a majority of voters to take their eyes off of Kid K’s glorious ass.

15. Best Body

I was so thrilled last year, after years of promoting the obvious physical perfection of Kid Karisma, that I was finally joined by a majority of voters. This year’s field is, as always, hot competition to try to wrest this oft-traded title away:

  1. Carter Alexander
  2. Mitch Colby
  3. Richie Douglas
  4. Kid Karisma
  5. Payton Meadows
  6. Van Skyler

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For my vote, this is a horse race between Kid Karisma and Peyton Meadows. I’d give Payton the edge for his pecs and abs, and Kid K the advantage for arms and shoulders. But the balance of power tilts on Kid K’s full, muscular leg development (including the often overlooked calves). So I’m inclined to, once again, worship at the feet of Kid K as the Best Body at BG East in 2017. Just to confirm my evaluation, I’d love to see these two physical specimens side by side… and then on top of each other, pounding into each other, squeezing, shoving, and grinding each other. As for who the popular vote will tilt toward, I most frequently guess this one wrong. But my (probably wrong) guess this year is that it will go to Kid K or, perhaps, Van, though I do think Payton is slowly accumulating an audience of gasping fans (in addition to me), with the slow trickle of his new releases over time.

This was a spectacular slate of nominees, and I’m not just saying that because I was on the nominating committee. In fact, several of my top choices changed as a result of seeing the official ballot and being reminded by other nominators of choice contenders that deserved a second look. In the coming days, I’ll keep reflecting on categories that aren’t reflected on the official ballots, but matter a lot to me. In the mean time, give your best argument (respectfully) for your votes in the comments below.

Our Man Inside

I just found on my doorstep the biggest haul of BG East contraband, behind-the-scenes stash of candid photos I’ve ever seen in one place. Our Man Inside (OMI) of BG East dropped off way over 100 photos of never before seen shots. This smacks of either astonishingly brash cockiness bordering on a secret wish to be caught, or the move of a man with the law hot on his heels and determined to smuggle out every last possible gem moments before he’s found out. Either way, I sense something ominous in this massive moment of homoerotic wrestling espionage, and I’m sending my most positive thoughts OMI’s way, wishing him good health and an “accident”-free near future.

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Mr. Joshua will eat you alive!

In the meantime, I’m combing through this treasure chest of a manila envelope and trying to decide how best to organize these homowiki-leaks for public consumption. It should come as little surprise that the large collection of photos of a long-time favorite, Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!!!) instantly grab my attention and make my crotch swell. And speaking of swollen crotches… fuck. me. senseless.  Of course Mr. J was immediately a front runner for Best Bulge of 2017 with his early year appearance in Ring Wars 26 wearing a leopard print loin cloth. But take a gander at what these bright red low rise trunks do to accentuate the elephant’s trunk he has stuffed in that pouch! As usual, the heft of his carry on luggage does not entirely fit in the overhead compartment, and the gap between his upper, inner thigh and the fabric of his trunks is precisely the magnificent tease that has made me love/hate/love Mr. Joshua for well over a decade. Again, I say, who the fuck has got what it takes to compete with this for Best Bulge of 2017!?

While OMI did not smuggle out action shots, these shots of Mr. J and Gil Barrios sneering at one another in the BG East weight room seem to strongly imply that Gil may be the next lucky son of a bitch to get an up close and personal opportunity to inspect the dizzyingly sexy body of Mr. Joshua.

Whatever Mr. Joshua is selling, I’m buying!

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Gil Barrios looks ready to take on someone in the ring

And if Gil is the lucky bastard who gets the next opportunity to get his hands on Mr. J’s body, these separate shots I dug out of the massive haul left on my doorstep might suggest that Gil has a hard time handling all that beef Mr. Joshua slaps down on the table.

How in the fuck do I preorder this slighty-more-than-hypothetical bout!? Could this be the match that catapults Mr. J back on top of my favorites list, unseating Kid Karisma’s world class ass for the first time in years? Will this finally be the contest in which Mr. J’s long-teased anaconda finally makes its first free range appearance on camera!? As always, OMI leaves us with more questions than answers. But we’re profoundly grateful for your brave service to the fans, OMI, and we hope you survive long enough to smuggle out more gems. If you need a safe house to escape the BG East muscle about to tie you up in the dungeon for your homowiki-leak bravery, send word. Use the codeword “OTK,” and I’ll know it’s you.

I’ll post more of this latest stash of contraband soon…

Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month

Busy-ness has been keeping me away from posting here, but not keeping me from enjoying a lot of new release wrestling. I saw a ton of fantastic matches in February, starring a deep, deep bench of outstanding wrestlers. So this is another month when picking a Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month poses a significant challenge for me. I’ve flipped back and forth a lot in mulling over my choice for which wrestler starring in a new release in February turned me on and entertained me most. But I keep coming back (in my thoughts and in my viewing) to one particular match, and one particular wrestler who holds my gaze riveted to his magnificent physique. So without further ado, I’m aroused to announce that my new homoerotic wrestler of the month is…

 

 

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Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!).

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Mr. Joshua’s got his hands full against Cole Cassidy in Ringwars 26

On the one hand, there’s a strong sense of righting a longstanding wrong in picking Mr. Joshua for this distinction. I’ve been naming HWsOTM for over 6 years now, and somehow, although I’ve spilled gallons of ink and cum musing over how much I enjoy his wrestling (and body), inexplicably, he has never held the title of HWOTM before now. He has secured the title of my overall favorite homoerotic wrestler in the past, but not for any one specific match, not qualifying him for the brutal month-to-month title. I don’t believe for a second that this is the first time he’s deserved it. No, I’m sure that this has been a ridiculous oversight on my part, entirely indicative of my own moral failings rather than a result of any deficiency or lack of merit on Mr. Joshua’s part.

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Mr. J ascends the throne

So let me just start off by apologizing to Mr. Joshua. I have sorely neglected and unjustly passed you over in the past. Your beauty, grace, and prowess as a homoerotic wrestler are not only praiseworthy, but they elevate you into the stratosphere of industry luminaries. You are the epitome of a wrestling fantasy man, and your ascendency to the HWOTM throne is long overdue.

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Cole shows off Mr. J’s best side

My adoring sidebar with Mr. Joshua aside, I will speculate that it’s entirely possible that Mr. Joshua is only now getting the laud he abundantly deserves because he has only now, in Ringwars 26, faced an opponent who bring out his full potential. I am also a HUGE Cole Cassidy fan. Give me Cole’s ripped muscles, dollar coin nipples, and a bottle of baby oil and I’ll be enraptured for hours. Even more at the heart of my fondest fantasies, Cole is a superb wrestler. More like a force of nature, he is a one man wrecking crew 99% of the time. Facing off against Mr. Joshua, Cole exposes nearly every succulent inch of him. He wrenches and pries him apart, muscle by muscle. It’s not as if Mr. Joshua’s legendarily gargantuan (and award-winning) package has not been targeted by opponents in the past, but Cole possesses an unselfconsciousness about his relish in manhandling Mr. J’s man-handle. Cole centers Mt. J in the frame in astonishing and innovate ways. He serves up Mr. Joshua’s meat on a platter, over and over again, in an obvious nod to pleasing their fans as well as a fighter’s instinct to exploit an opponent’s weaknesses. Mr. Joshua suffers at Cole’s hands in a way that I have very rarely seen before, and the depth of his agony, and the literal ball bashing brutality, milk out of Mr. Joshua an unmatched sincerity.

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Cole knows what we’re here to see

Another novel element in this Mr. Joshua match is his gear.  I cannot convey just how heartily I approve of his leopard print, supersheer, only marginally capable banana hammock. I think the “jungle boy” gimmick has been done so often that it’s a risky venture to gear up a wrestler, particularly a well-known one, into a Tarzan-esque patch of animal print cloth. However, not only does Mr. Joshua pull this off. He makes it his own.

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This wardrobe malfunction does not appear to have made it through post-production for the video (but is caught still frame in The Arena galleries)

I’m sure I say this every time, but I swear to the homoerotic wrestling gods, Mr. Joshua has never looked better. He’s not just fit. He’s a fucking work of art. That poor, overtaxed bit animal print somehow manages to polish off what is one of the most aesthetically beautiful physiques I’ve seen climb into the BG East ring, and that’s saying A LOT. Mr. J’s skin is silky smooth and bronzed all over to a perfect mocha latte hue. On the one hand, Mr. J’s working class Boston accent and sporty-Guido do, along with that wisp of a manicured soul patch between his chin and lower lip, provide stark dissonance with the wild man-of-the-jungle aesthetic of the gear. On the other hand, the overt sensuality and near-porn peekabo glimpses of baseball sized ball sac squeezing out the sides are spot on. It isn’t that Mr. J somehow comes across as a feral muscle beast raised by apes. But he nails like a mother fucker the part of the male stripper climbing off the pole and directly into the wrestling ring, bringing sensational taunting, tantalizing erotic cred to what turns out to be a legitimate heel-on-heel pro brawl.

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A fan-pleaser

There are about 30 distinct moments in the match when I’m aching to climb right into the ring and investigate with my tongue the erotic sculpture that Cole and Mr. Joshua create out of one another. The holds are just that provocative and long-held, like only two stellar pros with strong empathy for their audience could accomplish. And none of it feels gratuitous. It’s 100% brutal corporal punishment. It’s vicious and humiliating and veers full speed into open-faced sadism. They beat the living shit out of each other and, less like a performance than a documentary, the camera is simply there to witness the carnage.

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Stripper-turned-legimate nasty heel

Of course, Cole is lush and extravagantly muscled as always. But he’s the business end of the stick. He’s the one in relatively high-waisted MMA square cuts. He is (as he almost always is) humorless and calculating. The wild card is go-go boy turned pro ring badass Mr. Joshua. An ounce less intensity from Mr. J, even a shaving less vicious aggression on his part, and this could have been one of a hundred lopsided pretty boy massacres. But this time around, pretty’s got teeth. He takes the withering eye rolls and discounting by his opponent, and then throws every ounce of his gorgeousness whole heartedly into pounding the mats to make this legitimately suspenseful.

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By the Man Handle

Mr. Joshua grabbed the title of HWOTM as commandingly as Cole grabbed Mr. J’s testicles, over and over again, and tried to rip them off his dazzlingly hot body. I still long for more Mr. Joshua matches in which his opponents acknowledge what we’re all seeing, that Mr. J is breathtakingly gorgeous. Right at the beginning of the match, I get the impression Cole is understandably impressed with stunning heft of Mr. J’s most prominent attribute, but other than that, Cole largely has little but rage and contempt directed at his sultry opponent. The chemistry works exactly the way a heel on heel brawl ought to, but I will always long to see more narrative in which the inspiration of Mr. J’s muscles (every one of them) is what drives the battle, where opponents overtly crave to conquer and possess this mythical beast. Without going full monty, Mr. J injects some of the most potent, undiluted erotic energy into his matches. Now that he’s faced arguably his most brutal test, I’m hoping that we get to see him face more opponents who will pick up on their side of the erotic narrative. Mr. Joshua is as dangerous and deliriously gorgeous as we have ever seen him. One of these days, a truly appreciative opponent is going to give every taunting flex and crotch adjustment and impeccably groomed and coiffed inch of him the erotic run for his money that he’s got coming to him.

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I want to see an opponent who will NOT just walk away from this sight!

In the mean time, on your knees, mere mortals. The king is setting his hot ass down where, by divine right, it should have been a long, long time ago, atop the throne as reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month.

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February 2017 – Mr. Joshua Goodman

When Stars Collide

I’m going to keep singing loud praises for Ringwars 26, but I want to make sure and acknowledge that this is a seriously inconsistent collection. It ranges from the sublime to the passable, and in keeping with my policy over the past several years, I’m not going to harp on the weakest links in this chain. But I feel like it ought to be mentioned that there are weak links, in my estimation at least. On the other hand, there’s that climactic final match I gushed about a couple of days ago pitting two of the hottest, smoothest, most accomplished newbie wrestlers I’ve ever seen in one BG East match. Stacked up on that sublime side of the scale is also match #2 in the compilation, featuring the dream combination of Cole Cassidy and Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!).

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That’s “Mr. Joshua” to you!

I know that I say it far too often, that some favorite wrestler has just appeared “in the best shape of his life.” It’s not that I’m trying to overstate how supremely fit and sexy these gladiators look, but I just repeatedly fall head over heels in lustful adoration again and again when I see gorgeous hunks show up again in something new. But this time, I mean it. Seriously. Mr. Joshua and Cole are in the most perfect shape I’ve ever seen them. In particular, Mr. Joshua is just flawless. His skin is without a blemish and baked perfectly to a healthy, lightly bronzed hue. There isn’t an ounce of body fat apparent, and the leopard print ultra-brief (nearly a g-string) reveals more of his mouthwatering physique than I think anything else I’ve ever seen him in. His perennially magnificent aesthetics are simply amplified. His ripped abs are a fraction more ripped. His teardrop quads are just that much more defined. His peaked biceps and muscled ass and bulging, broad shoulders appear just a tad more peaked, muscled, and broad than a long-time infatuated fan like me can remember seeing before. The repeated musclemag coverboy poses he strikes are strongly reminiscent of vintage AMG softcore.

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Always dangerous Cole Cassidy

Cole isn’t as regular an object of my blogging obsession, but he is always homoerotic gold for me. We’ve seen Cole beefier, with a hotly muscled belly, and we’ve seen him even leaner than this, practically whittled to bone and muscle. But I think his fitness in Ringwars 26 is perfection. His muscles are incredibly thick and broad, and he’s sporting the impeccable proportions and gorgeously tapered-V of a fitness model. His mid-rise square cuts suit both his dangerous MMA style of fighting as well as his no-nonsense, absolutely functional, built-to-fuck-you-over body.

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Digging deep

What makes this a match of my dreams isn’t just the lucky moment in time when both of these beauties are in perfect shape, however. This is also a fantasy match for me because I crush like hell on heel-on-heel action. Unlike the newbie-on-newbie match in this compilation, these are both known quantities, with 3-dimensional personas and long-established skills not just in wrestling, but in selling the melodrama. Even someone with passing familiarity knows that Cole is like a coiled viper, always deadly dangerous and incredibly stingy in giving away even a submission, much less a match loss. It’s not like Cole is passionless, but he’s sort of sociopathic in his cruelty. We seldom see spikes of rage or adrenaline-pumped victory celebrations. Rather, he’s like Michael Myers, taking his hits here and there, but bearing down with an air of destiny. He’s cruel, but more a force of nature than a classic sadist.

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Saddle up

Mr. Joshua is a far more complex ring heel. He’s always been a raging narcissist, of course. I defy you to find an ounce of fault in that, because Mr. J’s body is just sexy as fuck. Of course he adores his own reflection. His reflection is dazzlingly, effortlessly erotic. And at times in Mr. Joshua’s career, he’s paid the price hard for just how distracting his Magic Mike-ready body is. He’s been harshly brutalized at times, particularly in those moments when he’s lost focus on the fight because his muscles demand his attention, or because his legendary mammoth bulge requires rearranging. But over the trajectory of his career, Mr. J has emerged as a surprisingly adept pro heel. Once he really started exploiting the devastating potential his magnificent muscles have in a wrestling match, Mr. Joshua’s narrative started veering decisively away from just being all about the pretty, and increasingly centered on the mean. He doesn’t mind so much being underestimated for his beauty, because it makes it that much more satisfying to take some new, smirking punk to school. His wrestling repertoire has expanded exponentially. He mentions in his match with Cole that he’s spent some time at the Snuka Wrestling Academy (whether that’s just bullshit to warn Cole against thinking Mr. Joshua’s leopard print banana hammock is a signal that he’s a pushover, or whether he’s actually been taking lessons, I don’t know). But Mr. Joshua is about 10 times more expressive than Cole. He’s agony is far deeper, and his pleasure exponentially greater. Rather than a force of nature, Mr. J is a profoundly complex, magnificently beautiful human being already mid-swing at Erickson’s final stage of human development: self-actualization. Like the Buddha himself, I half expect that we will simply see Mr. Joshua wink out of existence at some point near the end of a match, once he has fully, entirely, completely become the truest version of himself that he has been perfecting for years.

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Cole gets a handle on the situation

 

Fuck. I haven’t actually started even talking about the match, have I?  Let me try (weakly) to keep this concise. It is exactly what I hoped for when I saddled up for a ride here. This is heel-on-heel punishment. Both warriors are entirely themselves, their most genuine expressions of the wrestling characters they have been wooing fans as for so long. Cole is fucking vicious as shit. He is impeccably suited for the task of amplifying and exploiting this particular opponent’s most glaring assets and weaknesses, such as when he pounds Mr. Joshua down into an astonishingly gorgeous over-the-knee backbreaker and starts wringing the fuck out of the monster barely stuffed down Mr. J’s pouch. I thank the homoerotic wrestling gods that Cole’s hands are big enough for the task, but even more, I sing them praises that Cole dug in deep right there where so many opponents before him have tended to shy away. Sure, a lot (A LOT) of Mr. Joshua’s opponents have delivered barrages of strikes at his pride-and-joy bulge, but when it comes to really getting handsy, to daring to test dexterity and finger strength against the most notorious anaconda in competition, Cole really kicks it up several notches.

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Stand and deliver

Those unfamiliar with Mr. Joshua’s resume (shame on you!) may find it paradoxical that actually it’s Mr. Joshua who is first to deliver a low blow.  You might imagine that a guy with as gargantuan as a target as he has would want to avoid opening up a ball bashing competition. However, those of us who have long savored his work learned long ago the genius behind his insistence on striking first. Even if they don’t intend to, sooner or later every opponent ends up striking a blow below Mr. Joshua’s belt. Honestly, they can’t avoid it even if they try. So Mr. Joshua’s signature offense is to, literally, beat them to the punch and start the testicle torture. Cole is no exception. It’s very early days in this match, and Cole is starting to ride roughshod over the jungle boy. Cole has landed a jaw-splitting knee strike to Mr. Joshua’s chin, dropping him to the mat. Like the horror film antihero he is, Cole rains down leaping stomps to Mr. Joshua’s back, making the coverboy spasm. He rides a beautiful standing surfboard like Frankie Avalon, before bearing down that much harder on Mr. J’s lower back in a camel clutch and, eventually, a bow and arrow. There’s that familiar sense that Cole could send his opponent to the hospital here pretty quickly. Until Mr. Joshua takes a roundhouse swing at Cole’s balls. Watching Cole collapse in an impotent heap is amazing, but it’s nothing compared to Mr. Joshua climbing to his feet, grabbing Cole by the ankles, spreading his tree trunk thighs wide, and literally standing on his balls. We just don’t hear Cole scream often. But Cole screams.

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Spank that ass!

I love that this match stays true to the wrestling characters we’ve grown to know and crush on. Buckle up, because the reversals of fortune could easily give you whip lash. And the fact that both of these nasty heels, each in their own way, sells riding time so magnificently really speaks to every Cole and Mr. Joshua fan out there. Mr. Joshua slaps Cole’s granite-carved muscle ass repeatedly in such a contemptuous, domineering way that I can’t remember Cole ever suffering before. There are long, juicy spells of Mr. Joshua in total control over the writhing, squirming, humiliated MMA star. This could totally be a Mr. Joshua career-defining victory.

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Spread him!

However, Cole doesn’t just dissect his beautiful opponent, he lays him out with an obvious nod to the BG East fans masterbating at that very moment to the aesthetic wonders of Mr. Joshua’s physique. Crotch ripping spladles spread Mr. Joshua wide, his mammoth bulge quivering in fear just inches overtop of his barely covered hole.  In a stroke of genius, Cole maintains the spladle even as he climbs to his knees, giving us a vertical angle on every inch of Mr. Joshua’s bulging, beautiful all over tan and completely jeopardized ass.

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Time to face the music

On the other hand, Mr. Joshua feeds fan infatuation with his mouthwatering bulge by beating Cole into barely-consciousness and then schoolboy pinning him, grinding the beef-packed pouch into Cole’s face. He drags Cole up by his head and pounds his massive bulge into Cole’s dumbstruck mug as he kneels like a supplicant before his god. Back down to the mat they go, as Joshua holds Cole’s face in place, cock pinning him, smothering him in headscissors, jerking and pumping his hips like he could be just about to shoot a load across Cole’s face.

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Raise the roof

On the other hand, Cole battles back into contention, wearing Mr. Joshua out from the base of the testicles upward, and softening the rock hard fitness model up for a perfect Mexican ceiling hold. I mean, perfect. Both boys are fully extended, stretched out. Mr. J’s joints are hyperextended, quivering, muscles looking like they could snap. And right at the apex of his rainbow arch is Mr. J’s dream maker, bulging, straining his pouch, I swear almost whimpering of its own accord.

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Pucker up, Cole!

Honestly, I was still guessing who was going to win this match with about 2 minutes left. And not just because fortunes kept being reversed, but because I believed every second of the way that either of these dangerous, nasty, legendary heels could win.

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Hung out to dry

Check out Alex’s review for another take, though it sounds like we were pretty much on the same page on this one. The term “star” is probably thrown around too often, but these are two genuine homoerotic wrestling stars, and as Alex says, “These guys show why they’re stars.” Entertaining. Thrilling. Titillating. Suspenseful. And deep down homoerotically satisfying.

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Get ready for impact

Face the Music

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Joshua Goodman up close and personal with Troy Baker’s bulges in Mat Hunks 4

Taking a brief break from the heavy diet of reviews I’ve been dishing out, today I’m lingering a bit on that supremely homoerotic wrestling hold, face-to-crotch headscissors.

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Chip Slater has a love/hate relationship with his face in Patrick Donovan’s crotch in Undagear 5

I’m sure I’ve mused about this hold before, but I’m too lazy to look it up.  So I’ll probably repeat myself when I say that my heart pumps harder in my chest when a straight forward pro wrestling story suddenly introduces face-to-crotch scissors. If you buy that all of pro wrestling can easily be read as an extended homoerotic innuendo, face-to-crotch sort of slaps down the implied erotic subtext and steps at least one toe over the line into straight up homoerotic text.

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Mitch Colby is about to pop with Cole Cassidy trapped between his thighs in Ringwars 15

How wrestlers carry it off, of course, can significantly add to eroticism. I suppose it’s possible to snap your thighs around another man’s head with that up close look at your balls in his face and it be solely about punishment and wrestling victory. But I love watching a wrestler snap shut that bear trap and then enjoy it, openly, luxuriantly, expansively. When someone on the delivery side of this hold pumps his glutes and shoves his hips forward with a little enthusiasm, when he milks the moment with pulsing flexed muscles beating out a morse code of agony from the gasping grunts of his opponent, when he stares down his own hot body and smiles at the sight of his opponent owned and getting primed for sucking cock, when he closes his eyes and leans his head way, way back and that look of an impending orgasm washes across his face, there’s nothing coded about this. This is hot, homoerotic wrestling gold.

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Rick the Prick looks like he’s struck gold with Joshua Goodman’s legendary bulge in his face in Ringwars 12

The catcher can certainly connect the dots as well. Regardless of who ends up on top after all is said and done, I love it when a captured hunk’s eyes roam hungrily up and down his captors body above him. He doesn’t need to, but if he stretches his hands up and strokes those crushing thighs, the rippling abs, stretching so far as to palm the bulging pecs of his tormentor, it conveys what I’m silently thinking deep inside at that moment. A smothered grappler doesn’t have to, but if he’s man enough to nuzzle the balls bearing down on his face, fuck, maybe even open wide and give the trickster’s treats a hearty lick, it just puts the exclamation point on what this hold conveys from the start: wrestling persistently implies homoerotic intimacy.

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Charlie Evans makes the most of the rare standing face-to-crotch headscissors at the mercy of Steel Muscle God in Oil Hunks 8 (MDW)

When the camera angles and storytelling are just right, face-to-crotch headscissors shine a spotlight on one man’s bulging package, bringing his entire, tasty physique into the mix, making even that swelling muscle of passion a part of the corporal domination of another man.  For me, it isn’t even so much about the oral sexual implications, as much as it signals that every magnificent inch of a wrestler’s hot body is engaged in dominating his opponent. Hell, when wrestling companies choose to transition from explicit wrestling to explicit sex, I typically push rewind. Because what’s getting me off is the homoeroticism of the wrestling, not the wrestling as foreplay for sex.

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Rio Garza cannot handle Aryx Quinn in BG’s Bad Boys

I suppose it isn’t such a far distance between why I’m such a fan of face-to-crotch headscissors as I am a fanatic for my favorite pro wrestling hold, the over-the-knee backbreaker. Both draw my eye to one wrestler’s bulging package. Both center the frame on the outline of a bulging cock and the ballast of balls. Both seem ripe with the erotic potential marrying gay sensibilities and a pro wrestling kink. Both make my pulse pound in anticipation of what happens next to, or with, or on behalf of one wrestler’s swollen pipe.

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So much erotic passion led up to this moment of Mitch Colby smothered by Brook Stetson’s sweaty pouch in Sunshine Shooters 4.

I sometimes find it ironic that this blog attracts so many visitors thanks to the still frames I include, because it’s the story in and around any one captured slice of time in a wrestling match that tantalizes and titillates me. It’s not any one frozen image that becomes the perfect muse to my erotic imagination, but the drama played out in motion, the slow contraction of muscles, the arching agony in a lower back, the quivering pouch, the writhing feet futilely kicking the mat. I’ve lately talked in terms of “the moneyshot,” meaning that moment in a match at which point I’m likely to climax, but that moment is about the 1,600 seconds before that led up to that moment, the deepening jeopardy of one man, the swelling confidence of another, the bodies growing wet with sweat over time, the veins swelling and pumping harder with blood from the effort and the adrenaline of competition. I get off plenty to face-to-crotch headscissors, but I’m never just getting off to face-to-crotch headscissors.

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Kid Brock’s face swallowed whole between Blazes gargantuan thighs in Rainbow Restlers 2

If there is one valuable analog of face-to-crotch headscissors,  I think its the comfort a wrestling company has with the homoerotic eye of their gay audience. In scanning for face-to-crotch headscissors images across several platforms for this post, I found them concentrated in just a couple producers’ catalogs. And I think they play a part in direct proportion to how explicitly companies market to those of us in the audience tuning in and ponying up because we are sexually turned on by wrestling. Of course, face-to-crotch headscissors aren’t the only way of crossing the line from homoerotic subtext to homoerotic text. Hell, they probably aren’t even the best way. But from a strictly correlational perspective, I think they show up in proportion to how much I (at least) perceive of a producer as appreciative of and comfortable with me, as a gay man, watching their wrestling products as a means of sexual gratification.

So much sexual gratification when Logan Vaughn milks Trey Dixon into whimpering obedience in Florida Fights 5

So probably a close second as my favorite wrestling hold is face-to-crotch headscissors, because when they’re done wrong, they can reveal a whole host of troubled self-hatred bubbling beneath a veneer of nohomo bravado, but when they’re done right, I feel respected as a gay wrestling fan, drawn into the intimacy of homoerotic combat, and turned on hard.

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Kid Vicious puts his swelling cock where Niku Samir’s face is in Motel Madness UK 5