Tag: Lorenzo Lowe

The Great Homoerotic Wrestling Kiss-Off

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One of my favorite blogging activities in the past was polling readers. However, the blogger poll widget turned to crap a year or so ago, so I stopped posting polls. I’m hoping that Sidelineland’s new host has a more reliable 3rd party poll app. Let’s test it out. This will be a tournament poll format. I’ve selected 8 homoerotic wrestling kisses from relatively recent releases. We’ll do a head-to-head(-to-head-to-head) contest in the coming days to determine which is the hottest homoerotic wrestling kiss of the bunch. Rather than throw them all at you at once, we’ll do this elimination style. Here are your first two kisses to choose from:

kissben
Ben Monaco savors the taste of victory over a wasted Mason Brooks in BG East’s Gazebo Grapplers 15.

First up in this quarter-final round is a kiss from BG East’s Gazebo Grappler’s 15, in which Canadian stud Ben Monaco lays out and stuns niptastic rookie Mason Brooks, locking lips late in the match.

kissjake
Jake Lowe sucks Steven Ponce’s face and squeezes his balls in BG East’s X-Fights 35.

 

Ben and Mason are competing today against another BG East release from catalog 99.2, in which Lorenzo “Jake” Lowe twist ties eager ginger rookie Steven Ponce and pauses, mid-stream, to get a taste of things to come for X-Fights 35.

So you decide which of these two homoerotic wrestling kisses is hottest. Study these fine works of art closely to make the most informed opinion, and then vote below.  I’ll announce the winner in 24 hours.

 

TMI

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As a lover of expressive language, I tend to hold contempt for text-talk (smh), but this tidbit I recently ran across leaves me with nothing to say except for “TMI.”  It was the headline “MMA fighter sues sex shop over burnt penis” that sucked me in, along with an arousing photo of said MMA fighter, Michael Waylon Lowe.

Michael Waylon Lowe: 32 y/o, 5’7″, 145 lbs., 14-4
So the gist of this story as best I can tell from reading it multiple times on different sites (because it’s a little unbelievable and hilariously/tragically salacious) is that this hard-bodied fight machine was playing the part of the hard-bodied sex machine with his fiance’ (who has no penis, sadly), when during an intermission, his cock began to burn and swell up to alarming proportions.
Just let me be clear.  This sounds like serious shit.  There’s a bit of tongue in cheek to a lot of the online coverage of Lowe’s lawsuit (I mean, his cock swelled to alarming proportions during sex… please), but if even half of his injuries are real, he deserves a healthy dose of sympathy and some serious respect for publicizing these details in his bid for a monetary settlement for his pain and suffering.
But there’s just something too provocative about the alluring concoction of details that compose this story.  Juxtapose a ripped, handsome MMA fighter and the details of his application of sex gel and my one-track mind leaves behind the potential merits of Michael Waylon Lowe’s claims against Kama Sutra Pleasure Balm Prolonging Gel.  Instead, I’m helplessly left to imagine what a far, far better world it would be if MMA competition always involved “pleasure balm” (not the kind that leaves you permanently scarred and dysfunctional, though).
I like the intensity of MMA competition.  I don’t watch it often, but when I do, I’m stoked hard and breathless right quick.  There’s a powerful eroticism to the element of danger, of two ripped, conditioned, highly trained combatants using their bodies to hammer, choke, or rip each other apart.  It’s an element that I miss when homoerotic wrestling is too playful, silly, or slapstick.  I like stakes, tension, and competitive aggression.
Lorenzo Lowe (no known relation to Michael Waylon Lowe) gets tortured by MMA fighter Eli Black
Davie Lowe (no known relation to Michael Waylon Lowe or Lorenzo Lowe) suffers in oil beneath the muscles of Terry Reed.
I also like explicitly homoerotic content, with two wrestlers above-the-table turned on by one another.  I think the sweet spot for me typically resides when these two elements (competitive intensity and explicit homoeroticism) are perfectly balanced.  If the intensity and competitive spirit are lacking, the hottest bodies in the most explicitly erotic circumstances can sort me out, but they don’t hit me where I really live.  And as I said, I don’t often watch MMA for the same reason (along with frequent homophobic ventures of prominent MMA personalities).  All physical aggression and combat can sort me out, but I’m typically providing some erotic backstory in my own imagination to connect all the dots that truly entertain me.
Hope you’re back to full function soon, Mr. Lowe
Back to Mr. Lowe’s burnt and disfigured penis, though.  Fuck, that sucks.  If you’ve had similar results from using Kama Sutra Pleasure Balm Prolonging Gel, let us know.  Play safe, fight hard, and keep fucking!

That Look

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

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

Tak looks ready for his close up.

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

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

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas, Santa Brought to Me…

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On the first day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Kid Karisma’s picture perfect ass.

On the second day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Ben Monaco’s luscious, furry pecs.
On the third day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Steel Muscle God’s tree trunk thighs.
On the fourth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Skip and Christian’s wrestling romance.
On the fifth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Darius’ muscle-packed trunks.
On the sixth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Kid Vicious’ domineering sneer.
On the seventh day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Lon Dumont’s insanely ripped back.
On the eighth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Mason Brook’s intoxicating nipples.
On the ninth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Cage Thunder’s mouthwatering cock.
On the tenth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Drake Marcos’ wrestling kinked smile.
On the eleventh day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Jonny Firestorm’s gorgeously sculpted forearms.
“On the twelfth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me…”
The final wish I whispered into Santa’s ear felt like possibly the most daring fantasy of all.  I was incredibly fortunate to get to spend about half a day with a certain homoerotic wrestling god about a year and a half ago.  The master of the house, this iconic heel turned wrestling producer showered generous hospitality on me, showing me every corner of BG East headquarters where many of my fondest wrestling fantasies have taken place.  Near the end of my visit, he invited me to join him as he sat down at his computer and pulled up the unedited photos of the upcoming BG East catalog (Catalog 89).  I stood behind his chair, looking over he shoulder as he clicked through literally hundreds of pics, zipping past most, and then pausing to soak in a particularly titillating shot.  “Mmmmm,” he’d mutter appreciatively, “look at that!”  A photo of Mitch Colby’s hot muscled bod draped helplessly across the top turnbuckle, about to be battered by big Vlad Varek made my host groan and made my cock ache.  I got the first outside glimpse of masked mountain of muscle Magnus force feeding his monster cock to fellow rookie Surge, to the soundtrack of my host letting out a little gasp of pleasure as he paused on a shot from behind Magnus, dwarfing his opponent, as Surge’s hands worshipfully cupped Magnus’ massive glutes.  My host would fly through dozens of photos and then something would catch his eye, and when he paused on a shot long enough for me to soak it in, I’d see it.  A particularly sexy angle, a display of exquisitely tortured muscle, an incredibly hot grimace of agony or sadistic, sexy leer. His taste, his eye for what speaks most directly to my own homoerotic wrestling kink, was astonishing to witness, and his commentary as much as the graphics left me slightly dizzy and hard a rock.  With that memory crystal clear in my mind, I whispered to Santa, I want to see just a glimpse of what he sees.  And on the twelfth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me an entire collection of what catches the eye of the man who has pretty much defined my homoerotic wrestling kink, an astonishingly beautiful montage of moments directly from the desk of Kid Leopard.
Dawn breaks over the lake at BG East.
Skrapper rolls out of bed, ready for a day of wrestling
Drowsy Christian Taylor looks for breakfast, with pretty Pete Sharp in the background
“The irrepressible Lon Dumont” saddles up to the counter with his gorgeous recruit, pretty Pete Sharp
“Since you like bespectacled wrestlers,” the note from KL says, “here Nick Rush laces up beside a contemplative Lon Dumont prior to their match with Austin & Jake.”
Beauty, grace, power: Jake Jenkins takes to the air
Stunningly handsome and beautifully proportioned: All-American Austin Cooper

Bespectacled (thus extra hot) Lorenzo Lowe looks like the meat sandwiched between Jonny Firestorm and Kid Vicious
Lobolito watches as Drake texts illicit photos to neverland

Canadian Beef: The Boss included in his bundle of Christmas presents this never before seen (but much anticipated) preview of Ben Monaco and a new massive, hairy muscle beast due out in the next BG East catalog!
News Flash: Liam Ryan is bearded, bulked up, and ready for one of the most epic returns to BG East wrestling ever in 2013!

Did Kid Leopard’s eye for homoerotic wrestling mold my tastes, or does he simply have instinctive insight into what turns me on?  Either way, like Santa, Kid Leopard is an incredibly generous friend of neverland, and his generosity and genius continue to turn me on like nobody else can!

…So Let’s Keep Rocking and Rolling

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Not long after my recent post describing exactly what Blaine Janus and Mason Brooks did to me in their intensely sexy Gazebo Grapplers 14 throw down, I found this snapshot in my inbox along with this adorable note:
“Just wanted to say thanks for the nice write-up
 and I’m glad you enjoyed watching the match
as much as I enjoyed filming it! – Mason”
After licking my computer screen a few times, I quickly replied, and using my famous powers of persuasion (which admittedly involve a whole lot of sincere flattery), I got Mason to agree to chat with me a bit about being one of the new kids on the BG East block.  In some ways, the interview that follows picks up right where my interview with Ben Monaco left off yesterday.  Young Mason had me rolling on the floor in laughter one minute and then needing to rearrange my crotch the next minute with his razor sharp wit and extremely sexy insights into how he approaches launching an on-camera homoerotic wrestling career.  So let me be the first to introduce you to this sultry, sexy, suprisingly sinister Southern boy who, I predict, very well could take BG East by storm.
Bard: Fantastic to hear from you, Mason! And damn, boy, really, really thanks for the photo! If you enjoyed filming that match even half as much as I enjoyed watching it, I hope you had a few days to rehydrate because you and Blaine certainly wore me out. Can I share your pic on the blog? And can I start peppering you with questions “on the record?”

Mason Brooks: 5’9″, 150 lbs.

Mason: [Laughing] Please, feel free to share. I am getting in touch with my inner exhibitionist. And I’d be happy to answer your questions.

Bard: You’ve definitely got to let that inner exhibitionist out. A lot! Consider us on the record, and talk to me about your nipples (which is something I’ve never said in an interview before!). Blaine cannot keep his hands off of them. Ben Monaco privately commented to me that your nipples are “to die for.” Ben’s words were, “I know it. He knows it. That’s where he’s going to get his fans.” And I have to tell you, you’ve got seriously hot nips! What sort of “gay wrestling catnip” do you use on them to turn us all on like that!?

Mason: Well, gee, this is a first for me as well. It’s funny, aside from the piercing, which obviously gets a fair amount of attention, I’ve never thought of my nipples as a standout attribute of mine. I mean, maybe my hair, my smile, my eyes–the list goes on, as you might imagine. I guess all those dips and push-ups while watching Honey Boo Boo this summer paid off. Seriously, though, if everyone is as taken with them as Mr. Monaco, I think I’m set. He really couldn’t help himself all weekend. Not that I’m complaining, of course. If a little nipple-tweaking was my BG East initiation, I guess I got off easy. It is strange, though, that they seem to have such an effect on Canadians. It was chilly that weekend, and the cold air does seem to perk those boys up. Sort of like my nips.  Not sure about the gay wrestling catnip (although that sounds like something I need in my stocking this Christmas). Actually, just a little neosporin now and then to keep the piercing in working order, especially if someone’s had his, umm, hands all over it.

Blaine had his… hands… all over Mason’s nips.

Bard: There’s just so much material there in your answer that I’m almost speechless. Almost. So yes, let me just confirm that I’m in a growing line of guys who clearly find your nipples extremely alluring. Next, please let me also confirm that your hair, smile, and eyes are also very, very attractive, but I’ll be damned if there’s a BG East fan who’ll rip his eyes away from your hot pecs to say much more about your eyes. And finally, I’m profoundly disturbed to recognize within myself that the image of you doing dips and push-ups while watching Honey Boo Boo just completely gave me wood. My therapist and I are going to have a lot to talk about next week…. But dragging myself back on topic… as I mentioned in my review of your match with Blaine, you certainly caught me off guard. I was totally expecting to see an earnest, babyface-in-wrestling-singlet bound to be another naive rook about to be awakened to the dark truth of homoerotic wrestling at the hands of a master. Then like a cruise missile you almost instantly locked Blaine down, completely immobilized him, and went straight for a crotch claw. There’s no way in hell you’ll convince me that that was your first dance, Mason! That was an accomplished hand that so confidently, simultaneously crushed Blaine’s testicles and worked him into a drooling lather. Where have you wrestled before, and how much will I pay to see your rip-n-strip archives?

Mason sees what’s he wants and goes for it.

Mason: Okay, I must confess, this was not my first dance. I’ve done my fair share of wrestling, in and out of a singlet, and learned the ropes, as they say. None on video, unfortunately. As far as I know….  But maybe, just maybe, I enjoy it when people see my cute, innocent face and underestimate me. I think it gives me an advantage when I surprise them with my skills.  More than that, though, I’m the kind of guy who sees what he wants and goes for it. You saw him, parading his freckled cheeks around in that little see-through number.  how could I not pounce on that? Yeah, if anyone thought I was a pushover, they were in for a rude awakening.

Bard: You, my new friend, are one seriously devious little devil! I’d love to get Blaine’s take on this, but my impression is just that: he completely underestimated you. I strongly suspect that your (now) obviously misleading shy grin and a strong resemblance to Edward Norton could throw plenty of opponents off stride right around the time that you rip them apart at the crotch and claw their balls with abandon. In light of the horrific tragedy that your earlier wrestling in/out of a singlet was not captured on video, I hope BG East signed you up for many more matches to come. Having toyed, dangerously, with fluorescent blue-eyed, freckle faced, horny-toad Blaine, have you seen anything else at BG East that you hope to “go for” in the future?

“Gabriel Ross is lucky I had a plane to catch…”

Mason: You know, I’ll gladly take on (and take down) whomever they want to throw at me. Christian, Skip, Len, Lorenzo–I think all those boys need to get a taste, and I’m ready to give it to ’em, any time. The big muscleboys–gosh, I can never keep all their names straight–they don’t scare me either. And Gabriel Ross is lucky I had a plane to catch, or he would have been next on my list. I don’t care how much he bulked up, that little wanker would have ended up with a faceful of my balls. Though I’m not sure how mean I could be to him–that smile is pretty killer. As it happens, all I got to do was hug him goodbye. And cop a feel, of course.

Bard: I really, really like the sound of hotties like Lorenzo Lowe getting “thrown” at you. It makes me picture you in the ring with boys flying off the ropes, and I hope we see you in the ring soon. And as for muscleboys, I suspect that with the performance you posted against Blaine and the smack talk you’re laying down here, there could be some big muscleboys eager to get their hands on your pecs and/or your balls in their face. Personally, I’d like to take up a collection to buy Gabriel a ticket back just to see how “that little wanker” would fare in the matroom against you. It would be like a battle of the angelic babyface badboys, which sounds like a fantastic theme for a collection of matches! So if you were ever to find yourself sleepered out cold at the end of another sweaty, raunchy barnburner like you suffered at the hands of Blaine Janus, who would you prefer to wake up with his tongue shoved down your throat: Lorenzo Lowe, Ben Monaco, or Kid Karisma? In other words, twink, hunk, or muscleboy?

“Lorenzo sounds mighty nice.”

Mason: Hmmm, twink, hunk or muscleboy.  Is that like boff, marry, kill? It all depends on my mood, I suppose. (Sometimes you feel like a nut, and all that, right?) I wouldn’t kick any of those boys out of the ring for eating crackers, but right now I must be in a twink mood, because Lorenzo sounds mighty nice. Of course, he’d be the one getting sleepered out and waking up to me on top of him…

Lorenzo’s tongue ALSO seems irresistibly drawn toward Mason’s pecs (photo courtesy of Ben Monaco).

Bard: Well I saw a certain behind the scenes shot from Ben where you were sitting next to Lorenzo sans any pants, and you were sporting an awfully pleased grin on your face. I’m now officially advocating to see that grin on your face in a match with Lorenzo as he groggily rouses from your sleeper finisher to find your lips descending over his. Speaking of boff, marry, kill: Justin Bieber, Justin Theroux, and Justin Timberlake?

Boff. Marry. Kill.

Mason: Oh fun! Okay, first of all, my well-documented affection for Canadian boys notwithstanding, I would kill Justin Bieber, no question. Although I suspect that in a couple years, once the screaming girls have moved on and he’s still spindly and pale and the wrong side of 25, some combination of drugs and alcohol will do the job for me. Justin Timberlake’s never done that much for me, personally, but I guess I’d give him a whirl in bed. Don’t think I could marry him, though. His fashion sense irks me too much. (Ooh, you’re wearing a tweed vest and a fedora? Neato.) So that leaves Justin Theroux to marry, which sounds about right. I mean, if he’s good enough for the co-star of “Leprechaun,” he’s good enough for me. Nah, I’m kidding, he’s hot, I think we’d hit it off. As long as he’s into wrestling, that is. He seems like an interesting guy, but very serious. Eventually I’d get tired of exploring our feelings and I’d need to give those abs a working over. Wouldn’t that make a great tabloid headline? “Jen’s Heartbreak: Justin Caught with Wrestling Boy-toy.” Oh well, a boy-toy can dream….

Another wicked smart wrestling hunk:
Lon Dumont

Bard: I couldn’t agree with you more on all counts. And I can start that Justin Theroux rumor and see where it leads… never know. Damn, he’s hot. So you’ve got good hair, gorgeous pecs, magical nipples, AND insanely insightful taste in men? Damn, you’re going far! Did you have the opportunity to meet a long-standing favorite infatuation of mine when you were in Pembroke: Lon Dumont? I think you two would hit it off. You both seem particularly quick-witted and self-reflective. And he’s a god in the wrestling ring, so you can’t go wrong chumming up to Lon! Wrestling + smarts = Bard-is-infatuated. What haven’t you done yet in homoerotic wrestling that you’re itching to try out? Any particular moves, venues, gear, etc?

Mason: I did meet Lon Dumont, but just briefly. I think he was pretty busy in the ring, and I may have been headed to wash Blaine out of my hair (figuratively speaking, of course). Sounds like I should get to know him, though. I could always use a few pointers in the ring to add to my skills on the mat. What am I itching to try? You know, I’m always open to new things, especially if they make my butt look good. So, I dunno…rip and strip, oil, mud, jello? See, now I’m getting hungry. Oh, and I probably shouldn’t say too much, but it’s possible that in my next match we’ll get a little…wet?

Mail your boxes of Jello c/o Mason Brooks to:
BG East, PO Box 172, Pembroke, MA 02359

Bard: I hope you had help in the shower! Yeah, I think you and Lon could make for a very dangerous combination. If you two got your heads together, I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that there’s been a major coup at BG East with you two running the show. And as for what we should expect next from you, I LOVE the sound of “wet!” And I’m even crazier for the words “oil, mud, and jello.” How incredibly old school sexy of you! I know a whole lot of wrestling fans who would blow a gasket for a rip-n-strip jello wrestling match, or a classic oil wrestling throw down. I think the time has come for those vintage genres to come back in vogue as retro-chic, and I love that you’re ready to be at the front of that line. But really, is there anything that doesn’t make your butt look good? So I think you know that I’ve also recently interviewed Ben Monaco, and Ben referred to you as “quiet and polite” to the point of being eligible to be an honorary Canadian. Has he ever actually met you?! I mean, sure, maybe you’re a little more reserved in person that you have been during this interview, but seriously… honorary Canadian!? Are you stringing him along, playing coy, in order to blow him away on the mats? Is this some sinister master plan building off of that dimple in your cheek and twinkle in your eye to lull another potential opponent into underestimating you?

Has Ben even met Mason!?

Mason: Honorary Canadian, huh? That would be quite an honor. I like hockey, beer, and flannel, and I know “O Canada” in English and French–still working on Inuktitut–so I think I’m halfway there already. I just hope the initiation ceremony involves Tyler Seguin shirtless and lots of maple syrup. As for quiet and polite, I can see how people assume that when they first meet me. I like to size up a room first, see who I’m dealing with. And hey, if people assume I’m innocent and harmless, that’s their problem. Plus I’m from the south, so yeah, probably I do have some manners deep down inside, along with a knack for making killer fried chicken. But I’m not so polite on the mat, as Mr. Monaco ought to know by now.

Bard: I’m adding “maple syrup” to the list of media within which you should wrestle. And it sounds like you’re more than halfway to Canuck-hood, eh? What part of the South are you from, and what percentage of the time that you wrestled with Ben did he spend sucking on your nipples?

Just like wrestling the pig farmer’s son!

Mason: I’m from a rural part of Virginia, where I’m pretty sure some folks are still fighting the Civil War. Very pretty country, but not much to do, unless you wanna wrestle a pig. On the other hand, sometimes you get into the Wild Turkey and end up wreslin’ the pig farmer’s son behind the barn. And that ain’t so bad. What else? Oh, right, nipples. Always with the nipples. As I recall, there was more pinching and tweaking going on than sucking, but it’s all a blur. A thoroughly enjoyable blur. Perhaps Mr. Monaco has a more vivid recollection, or maybe he was just daydreaming about the things he’d like to do with my sweaty chest.

Bard: You make pig farmer wrestling sound hotter than I’d ever have guessed! Ben was entirely mum about any activities you may have gotten up to. The nipple sucking was just my wishful thinking, though perhaps I’ve seeded the ground for future opponents you might face. I can hope. Well, Mr. Brooks, I’m convinced that we will be seeing a lot more of you in the future, based on your debut in Gazebo Grapplers 14 and your readiness to face all comers and all viscous substances. I predict that you’re going to have a big fan club, starting with nipple-obsessed Canadians and jello wrestling fans, but quickly branching out from there. Is there anything else you’d like to say to BG East fans who are about to discover that they’re Mason Brooks fanatics?

Quiet, polite, Southern boys:
probably nastier than you think.

Mason: Yeah, in the immortal words of Dirk Diggler, I’ll keep trying if you keep trying so let’s keep rocking and rolling. (Sweet jeebus, I loved that movie.) Seriously, though, I just hope the fans out there enjoy watching my matches as much as I enjoy making them, ’cause the whole experience was a blast, and I can’t wait to do it again. Oh, and watch out for quiet, polite, Southern boys–they’re probably nastier than you think.

Bard: True story: Boogie Nights is one of Lon Dumont’s favorite flicks. I kid you not. I’ve already seen quite a bit of chatter that fans are lining up for more of Mason Brooks, so we’re going to do our part. And personally, I’m hoping that there are plenty of hunks at BG East who will decidedly not take your advice about watching out for polite, quiet Southern boys, because I can’t wait to see the look of shock on their faces when you let loose. This was a true pleasure getting to chat with you! Thanks for your time, and I hope we can do this again. I’m strongly convinced that you could go very, very far in this business, and I’m not just saying that because of your entrancing nipples.

Mason: The pleasure was mine, and thank you so much for the kind words. The nipples and I are flattered.

Mason Brooks and his nipples.

Goofy = Sexy

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Ben Monaco (l) demonstrates how a weekend at BGE can turn sexy-silly!

Kid Karisma’s behind-the-scenes photos of  last weekend’s BG East wrestlefest have garnered a lot of attention, including attention from a few of the other hot hunks on hand.  For example, Ben Monaco contacted me a couple of days ago to clarify that he’s not the only sexy battleboy to get a little silly (as was documented by Kid K’s pic of Ben with Gabriel and the karismatic one).

Nothing could make Kid Karisma look anything but sexy as hell!

Turns out Ben has some photographic evidence to illustrate his point. For example, while Kid K seems to almost always be flashing his Blue Steel in his photos, Ben captured my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler hamming it up.  Not his most flattering photo, and yet still somehow the karismatic one remains sexy as hell!

“Jonny, say ‘CHEEEESE!'”
Skip and his “Boston Boyfriend“ Jonny Firestorm look a little surprised to be captured in Ben’s lens.  Jonny’s awkward “say cheese” smile in particular looks goofy.  However 
Work it!  Work it!
Skip manages the unlikely feat of looking Bieberesque while flashing his Blue Steel!  Now that’s a talented professional!
DUDE! lrenzo lowe sittin nxt 2 me NOT WEARING ANY PANTS!!! 
Lorenzo Lowe makes goofy look so, so sexy! This boy seriously needs to show up in the ring wearing those eyeglasses!  It could totally be his thing… mild-mannered nerdilicious boy with a bubble butt turns into smoldering hot, dangerous homoerotic warrior the moment he whips off the spectacles.  Sort of a Clark Kent turns raging homoerotic wrestler angle.  It’s golden, I tell you!  And who’s the newbie sitting next to him, almost certainly texting his friends back home: DUDES! Lrenzo Lowe sittin nxt 2 me NOT WEARING ANY PANTS!!!?  I have it on good authority that this, my friends, is the already famous rookie (in my mind, at least) of the notoriously magical nipples!  Not a lot to go on in this shot, but I’m ready to say he looks cute as a button, and if those nips are half as hot as I’ve heard, I can’t wait to see that babyface screwed up in agony in a relentless two-handed nip twister!
Holy shit, some muscle hunk is wearing Gabriel Ross’ face!
Someone else will have to tell me if Gabriel Ross is making a funny face in this shot, because I’ve been staring at this pic for hours without finding the will power to tear my eyes away from his stunningly beefy bod!  Holy shit, I thought his pecs were incredible in Kid K’s snap. Get a load of that ASS and those gorgeously muscled legs!!! I have no idea who got the honors for taking on this readers’ choice sexiest Brit, but what an assignment!  Gabriel was already a master at putting the “erotic” in homoerotic wrestling.  Now that babyboy is all grown up and packing serious beef, my head is going to explode waiting to see all that muscle put to good use (well, something’s definitely about to explode!).
Damien Rush taunts the 99%
Ben’s final photo evidence that sexy and goofy go hand in hand is this knee-buckling shot of daddy’s little trust fund baby, Damien Rush, with his tongue hanging out.  Damn damn damn damn damn!  His private sessions with some trainer-to-the-rich-and-famous have been PAYING OFF!  The boy has grown wings, and I’m taking that pose as his personal challenge to me to feel what those arms can do wrapped around me in a bear hug.  I’ve been trying to land an interview with Mr. Rush’s sexy boy for months now, but “his people” haven’t made it happen yet.  The outline of that sweet meat hanging between his legs is doing nothing be renewing my determination to get this diamond stud on the record.  I swear, Damien, I won’t even ask for your tax returns!
Ben works all the right angles!
So Ben Monaco is the rookie stud of the hour for feeling the need to share a few more moments from a weekend of homoerotic wrestling with the hunks of BG East.  Ben also clarified that in addition to the hot rookie with the magical nipples, there was yet another jaw-dropping, tattooed muscle hunk rookie on hand that had many of the boys feeling faint.  That I need to see!  If ANY of the other boys present should feel like they need to defend their dignity by sharing their thoughts or pics from Pembroke, you know where to find me!

Red Baron: Come Sit Next to Me!

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Kid Karisma is back at it, passing along more dirt on his blog about last weekend gathered from another wrestler there, his friend Alan, aka Red Baron.  In our interview last winter, Kid K explained that it was Alan who first set him up to wrestle for BG East.  For that reason alone, I consider Alan a patron saint in neverland.  But apparently Alan is also carrying around potentially incriminating photographic evidence of just how far Kid K will go for a good time.  The karismatic one and his “Daddy Alan” clearly enjoy talking shit, and I for one enjoy listening to it!  Here and now let me just make myself crystal clear: neverland readers are absolutely aching to see some candid shots of Kid K compromised by too much partying!  Alan, if you’re listening, let’s talk!!!

Kid Karisma, Blaine Janus, Lorenzo Lowe and Skip Vance

It also appears that Alan also took some shots over the weekend at BG East, and Kid K has been kind enough to post them.  As is my way, I’m instantly obsessing over every detail.  For example Lorenzo with a mouth full of watermelon… damn this boy is looking sexier to me by the minute!

Skip Vance and his “Boston boyfriend,” Jonny Firestorm

I’m also noticing that Skip and his Boston boyfriend both shop at Hollister.  Unless they’re sharing clothes.  Which is just fucking adorable.

Blaine and Alan look ready to double-team a handsome new face!

Perhaps most intriguing is this shot of Blaine Janus and Alan aka Red Baron sandwiching an extremely handsome young man who I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure to meet yet.  In this shot he bears a strong resemblance to John Fugelsang, who is blisteringly hot in my book.  I’m guessing this is one of the newbies Kid Leopard mentioned as part of the cast of characters in Pembroke last weekend.  I have no independent verification as to whether this could be the hot hunk with the jaw-dropping nipples I’ve heard about.  He looks fit, but there’s really no telling from this shot what sort of physique he’s smuggling under those baggy clothes (Skip, drag this boy to Hollisters!!!).  I hope Kid K gave this handsome hottie the warm welcome a beautiful rookie face deserves (i.e., Kid Karisma’s premiere muscle ass sitting on his face!).

Red Baron pumps up to prepare for his next cub hunt.

Kid K also posted a shot of Alan pumping his guns, which illustrates why Kid K and his buddies refer to him as “Daddy” Alan.  Good thing Karisma and Alan are buddies, because shit talking with a big bear daddy like this seems dangerous if you’re a lean, 5’8″ slice of beef with baby blue eyes like Kid K.  Then again, in the words of the karismatic one…

“I don’t give a fuck!”

Keep dishing up the dirt, Kid Karisma!  Your grip on the title of my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler is fucking TIGHT with all this extra-curricular, behind the scenes insight into a hot and heavy weekend of wrestling at BG East!

Evoking Eli

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I always feel a little intimidated when I hear from Eli Black, which, frankly, is how I assume he likes it. He’s equal parts over-the-top ego, stunningly hot physique, and seriously devastating wrestler.  He’s a force of nature, I think, and resisting him is a little like shaking your fist at a hurricane.  So when Eli says that if anyone deserves an a-to-z montage of the wonders of his wrestling range, it’s him… well, who am I to argue?  I’ve still got more “Making Jake…” lined up, but in honor of Eli Black reminding us that not only does he read homoerotic wrestling blogs, but he desires, nay, demands the loyalty of his gay fans, I’m more than happy to inaugurate a new series all about the a-b-c’s of Eli Black.  Here’s to evoking Eli’s…
… arrogance.
Appropriately enough, let’s start with the arrogance that Jake Jenkins evokes from Eli.  I have to guess these two hardbodied hunks would have quite the bromance if it weren’t for the deep seated need that they both have to be the undisputed top dog.  Hell, it was Jake who complained last winter when I presented a reader’s choice poll for the hottest, most promising rookie in homoerotic wrestling, but forgot to list Eli on the ballot.  When they first met at Rock Hard Wrestling, Jake came out on top in the end, but all along the way, he managed to evoke from Eli some of the sweetest, most compelling arrogance I’ve seen in the ring in a long time.
… barbarity.
JJ and Eli stirred up still more of that primal chemistry when the mad geniuses at BG East threw these two polecats into the mat room together for Mat Rookies 1.  Sure, it started out nice and friendly-like.  But when the singlets came off and the shit got personal, holy hell if beautiful Jake didn’t evoke in Eli a raw, fierce barbarity that takes my (and Jake’s) breath away!
… consternation.
By no means has it all come up roses for Eli, perhaps suffering his most humiliating defeat at the hands of heel-rising Morgan Cruise in Gut Bash 9.  An accomplished MMA fighter like Eli would have no idea to expect he’d be brutally speared by the Mastodon and then brutalized for an eternity as Morgan targeted Eli’s “picture perfect abs.”  You can just read it on Eli’s face halfway through his utter destruction.  This just wasn’t the way it was supposed to be!  Morgan did a whole lot of things to Eli in that match, but perhaps most delightfully, he evoked Eli’s consternation.
… despair.
Eli Black is not a man familiar with defeat.  Having chatted with the young hunk a couple of times, I’m also convinced that Eli’s sincerest wish is to pair his irrepressible desire to dominate with his fiercely loyal and lustful base of gay fans who study his every move and flex in infinite and intimate detail.  So when shockingly forced to submit, or as when he met Jake for the first time in the ring at Rock Hard, going down in the best out of three falls, the pathos is thick and moving when Eli clutches his battered abs and covers his eyes as if to prevent himself from seeing his own destruction (and from being seen by the Eli loyalists lining up to watch his amazing ass!).  Once again, hand it to Jake Jenkins to draw out something stunning, totally arousing, and perfectly pitched for the wrestling kink audience when Jake so powerfully evoked Eli’s despair!
… euphoria.

Eli’s Wrestler Spotlight collection is a prized possession of mine. Personally, I’ve lingered long and hard on the match in the middle of the line-up, in which stunningly beautiful rookie Victor Paz turns out to be not only bigger than ripped Eli, but nearly as experienced in MMA, making the friendly mat tussle turn into an incredibly arousing display of holds slipped on with grace and then joints stretched to the edge of human endurance mercilessly.  But I’ve heard from at least 5 different people for whom it’s Eli’s 3rd match in that set, against bubble-butted little beauty little Lorenzo Lowe that worked them by far the hardest.   Maybe it’s precisely because Lorenzo isn’t nearly a hardbodied hunk like Eli’s other opponents… perhaps it’s the doe-eyed fearlessness with which he starts the match and make’s Eli scoff… or maybe it’s the surprising success the beautiful babyface has in locking Eli up and planting that gorgeous bubble butt on Eli’s face… but whatever it is, it’s hard to miss the furrowed brow, closed eyes, and awe-struck slack jaw that washes over Eli with Lorenzo’s handsome face finally tucked up so nice and tight between Eli’s steel cable thighs, leaving the scarlet-faced rookie with a super-close-up of that amazing ass (count me majorly jealous!).  Sweet Lorenzo (who I swear looks an awful lot like my first boyfriend) evokes a whole lot from Eli, but what a payoff to see him evoke Eli’s euphoria!

Got your own abc’s of Evoking Eli?  Send them my way, preferably with a pic to illustrate them, and I’ll pass along your keen eye and literary savvy in a future post.  In the mean time, for the record, let me just reiterate the obvious.  This is Eli Black’s world, bitches.  We just (fortunately) live in it!