A recurring theme here has been my perpetual self-reflection on what it is about homoerotic wrestling that speaks to me. A regular point of perseveration has been what makes a wrestling match particularly “homoerotic.” I can get off on mainstream straight pro wrestling probably almost as much as the next guy, but my bread and butter continues to be this particular industry marketed specifically to gay men. And I know that within this industry, there are straight wrestlers, and the erotic heat that emanates from a lot of matches is what I’m bringing to it as a viewer. And I’m okay with that, as long as the whole interaction effect isn’t cloaked in a closeted wink-wink, where the producer and we know that this is marketed with a gay eye in mind, but the whole thing is kept strictly on the straight side of the fence so that a fan can exercise plausible deniability if they’re caught with an incriminating browser history (“I was just checking out some underground pro, bro”). Yawn.
But it also isn’t just an issue of wrestlers pulling out their porn-ready cocks and wrestling hard and naked. Though there’s nothing wrong with that, as far as I’m concerned. In fact, I’m advocating for more straight forward naked wrestling, not just the last 2 minutes of a match before it devolves into out of control face sucking (not that I have any problem with that, either!). But what I key off of isn’t just the explicit homoeroticism of naked bodies, by any means. There’s this sweet spot right in the middle of straight-up pro with me supplying all of the erotic subtext, and hardcore porn with a clumsy grapple as appetizer.
It’s sexy because of intention and attention. Like when a wrestler acknowledges that his opponent looks hot. The phrase, “Nice ass,” or “sweet pecs,” is pure gold when it comes to dialing a match squarely into the territory that grabs me hard. Of course a “no-homo” disavowal will totally kill that buzz, but happily I see less and less of that in the wrestling I watch these days. They don’t have to get their dicks out. Just notice, appraise the obvious assets of an opponent, and you’ve drawn me into the match. I’m invested 10 times more if the wrestlers state the obvious fact that they are both gorgeous specimens. I never see this in straight-up pro (not that I watch it much anymore), and I think it’s an angle that’s probably even more disruptive of heteronormativity than even getting your gear ripped off. Guys look at guys. Guys appreciate guys. Guys can be turned on by getting their hands on guys. The eroticism peaks long before (and even in the absence of) any cum being added to the recipe.
I’ve mentioned before that I regularly push rewind around the time I get to more explicit sexual content at the end of harder-core matches. Like when I was following Naked Kombat, I would skim over the sex round to see if anyone comes close to Rusty Stevens’ perfect mix of corporal punishment, humiliation, and wrestling domination (naked pony rides, leg scissor armbars used like an accelerator pedal to taunt, tease, and torment a loser by commanding them to jack off just shy of orgasm again and again). The fucking itself, even the acrobatic, artistic fucking of professional porn stars who somehow are able to stretch and maneuver into positions that I’m pretty sure would dislocate multiple joints if I attempted them, comes across as downright pedestrian to me. The erotic heat is the sweat-inducing wrestling competition. It’s the suspense and the battle. It’s the passion to dominate knowing that the loser is going to get fucked, rather than the loser getting fucked, in and of itself.
So I love the story of a wrestler having to battle with his own lust to stay focused on beating his opponent. The erotic offense of one hunk destroying his opponent’s defenses with a nibble of the ear or a stroke of his hot body strikes me as the height of homoerotic. There’s a fantastic, frustrating, intensely provocative tease near the end of some matches where the lines between competition and giving in to total lust get so blurred that I can’t tell what’s an openly erotic trap and what’s just mutual submitting to the intimate passion of bodies grinding into bodies. So when one wrestler is ready to just get down to hooking up, and the other is just playing along long enough to snap shut a sleeper, or pound out a finishing OTK, or slip on a knee-breaking figure-4 leglock for the final, screaming, totally vulnerable submission, fuck that puts me over. Whipping out cocks and sucking and fucking at that point is totally vanilla, as far as I’m concerned. I’m pushing rewind to watch that look of shock wash across the loser’s face when he realizes his lust just walked him by the nose into becoming the property of his new master.
My tastes are broad and varied. I can get off on a wide spectrum of homoerotic content, from barely implied by the copyright holder to blistering hot fuck stakes consummated. But that sweet spot that I crave most in the middle of the normal distribution is unmistakable, and yet resists the easy out of sliding too quickly into hardcore porn. It’s an open nod to me, the audience, and an intentional grappling with the erotic potential between two smoking hot hunks hell bent on dominating one another. It’s a look, a groan, a nibble, a slap, a gasping grope, an unfocused reverie. It’s stating the obvious, that two barely clad studs pounding, grinding, and crushing into one another is potently intimate and powerfully arousing. Guys like guys. Wrestling ensues….
I told you that last batch of BG East contraband was the fucking motherload, now didn’t I? Just to add context, this 3rd installment is still not all of it. It is, however, sweet, because of all the smuggled goods that OMI dishes out, my favorites are always the captured moments of my favorite BG East wrestlers relaxed, chilling, smiling, clearly enjoying themselves apart from the drama in the ring. These are the shots that make me admire these hotties that much more because they’re unpackaged, (relatively) candid, and somehow make them that much more crushworthy because they’re real. Speaking of crushworthy…
Fuck, every last one of these boys are adorable. No game face. No bloodlust. Just hot young hunks who can beat the living fuck out of each other one minute, and then kick back and chill when all is said and done.
I think this batchlet speaks to OMI as much as it does to the sensationally tasty hunks featured. We know precious little about the identity of OMI, but I can’t help but infer that he is equally as infatuated with Mad Mykel’s ass and Chase Addams nipples as I am. Just as an aside, Mad Mykel has made some tragic gear choices in the past, but I am incredibly anxious to get to see him in action in this jungle boy loin cloth.
And finally this last subcollection for the day features sizzling hotness all around, including the most elusive interview get of my blogging career, Kid Vicious. I’ve begged, borrowed, and stolen to convince KV to sit down with me for an interview. I’ve made promises. I’ve done favors. I’ve had him halfway to the table on at least a couple of occasions, only to have the most vicious tease in the business take a call and turn away at the last minute. I’m still working on figuring out who I have to fuck to get him on the record with me, but once I do, you’ll be the next to know.
I know for a fact that OMI has been taking some heat, in cognito, from the powers that be at BG East for his corporate espionage/fan fantasy fulfillment. Send your kindest wishes and prayers for safety to the homoerotic wrestling gods that OMI remains our man inside. And pass along the word to anyone you know with strings to pull that Kid Vicious gives that sit-down soon.
As I mentioned a while back, I had the biggest drop of BGE photo contraband left on my doorstep a couple of weeks ago. I’ve been strapped for time, so I’m just now sorting through these gems, doing a little latent class analysis to come up with implicit categories, and ready to share a few more. I identified today’s theme based on the 90 degree/90% humidity hell I’ve been surviving for the past couple of days. In other words, here are some OMI treasures that I file under both “hot” and “staying cool.”
The phrase “fun in the sun” doesn’t quite capture just how sexy and delightful these photos are of BGE boys at poolside in Florida. By the gear, these pics all appear to be shot around the time of the taping of Wet & Wild 7: Pool Tournament. If you haven’t seen that lovely competition, check it out for the hot bodies, the surprisingly intensely competitive round robin, and the post tourney groping and liplocks.
These post-taping pics of Jonny on clean up duty after the Pool Tournament raise a host of questions. 1) What put a headliner like Jonny in such a doghouse that he’s on janitorial duty? 2) Why the fuck didn’t we get to see the tournament competitors’ trunks come off, since clearly, they came off?! And, 3) what ever happened to those lime green briefs that Drake wore in the Pool Tournament, got fished out of the pool by Jonny, and then reappeared as the prize in the shockingly bitter Babyface Brawl X? After so much sweat and cum was spilled over that hot gear, one wonders just where that sexy swath of fabric ended up.
And finally, this latch batch of smoldering hotness I just file under “the future’s so bright, you gotta wear shades.” Baby Boy Leone is wearing me out with his shirtless, hairy hotness and retro, oversized lenses. And the posed, dockside hunkfest is now my desktop image, because it inspires about two dozen homoerotic wrestling fantasies on continuous loop in my imagination, about half of which feature Christian Taylor getting double-, triple-, or quadruple-teamed by this particular incarnation of the boyband.
As always, let’s all voice our gratitude and say a little prayer to the homoerotic wrestling gods for OMI’s safety, so that we may enjoy many, many more behind the scenes treasures like these in the future!
Tonight. Midnight. Submit your votes for the Best of BG East in 2016. I realize that I’m atypical when it comes to how many BG East matches I watch over the year, so this little voter’s guide is intended to help fill in any blanks some of you may have for lack of exposure to some of the nominees. If 2016 teaches us nothing else, it proves that nothing requires us to be educated and informed voters. However, if you prefer to vote based on something other than your cock’s reaction to one still photo, but you don’t have time to see the whole ballot of matches, feel free to consider my opinions for what they’re worth (which is relatively little, but a little more than voting with no basis whatsoever).
Let’s power through the remaining categories to finish off your ballot.
Best Mat Battle
It’s a little surprising to consider this match “from the vaults” for a 2016 award. Both Jonah and especially Cameron were so young in this match. It’s hard not to superimpose what we know about how Cameron grew up, muscled up, and launched his own production company since this match was taped. I loved this match immensely. It’s rough and raw. The boys clearly hate the fuck out of each other. Lovely, lickable twinks who may look like babies but wrestle like nasty back alley brawlers.
It’s a close call for me, but my vote goes to Kid K and Mason. Both of these beautiful boys are perennial favorites of mine, so I had very high hopes for this match going in. They didn’t disappoint, and in fact the intensity is even hotter, the bodies even more beautiful, and the mat wrestling drama even more compelling than I’d expected. It also helps that these hunks so enjoy each other’s bodies. It’s cocky and playful and reads like the hottest foreplay in history.
Similarly, I’ve never seen a match that includes JJ or Attila that fails to get me off. It’s a match up of an amateur mat champ and a ripped, acrobatic brawler. These are both thoroughbred athletes with massive egos, so the action is brutal and vicious. Not nearly as much erotic heat as Gazebo 18, but magnificent mat wrestling nonetheless.
The narrative behind Coop and Ryder’s mat tussle is great. Coop’s competitive amateur wrestling days seem so far behind him, since he’s been showing up as Dr. Cooper and dissecting opponents like a heart surgeon (aka, mercilessly) in the ring. So Jake seems to be unaware that Coop kicks ass on the mats as well. Ryder lies and cheats his way into putting the doctor into serious jeopardy, but in a lush mash up of babyface Austin and his Dr. Cooper heel alter ego, this mat battle turns nasty pro.
I’ve written a small novel about what this match does for me, so I’ll try not to repeat myself. What grabs me by the balls most is how both of these dazzlingly pretty boys show us something completely new. They’re gorgeous. The wrestling is completely ego driven. They’re gorgeous. The dialogue is sensationally sexy. They’re gorgeous. And the all in, vicous submissions are way more intense and work than I expect to see from supremely pretty boys like this. Oh, yeah, and they’re gorgeous.
Speaking intensity born of dislike, Drake and Ethan rip into each other with a passion that can’t quite be described with words. They’re mean to each other. They’re vicious and brutal. It turns sensationally sexy as the gear gets stripped, but not so much because they turn each other on, but because you get the impression that the final victory lap (after the pony ride) could very well be a domineering, taunting, sneering, contemptuous fuck. Buckets of sweat. A couple pints of tears. Lush bodies. This is a very close second choice for me.
We almost certainly all know what we like about liplocks. I like sweat, palpable passion, a tablespoon of aggression, and authentic lust. Here are your options.
I’m in an ethical dilemma when it comes to giving you a look at the first nominee for Hottest Liplock. BG East has an embargo on me sharing any of their pics that contain full frontal, and yet the only shots of this liplock include both wrestlers with their full-mast cocks in hand. So I’m hoping that I’ll be forgiven for cropping out the bottom of this shot, to stay within the strictly PG requirements I’ve agreed to, despite having to drop the BG East copyright at the bottom of the photo. If this photo suddenly disappears and is replaced by a puppy, you’ll know that I have been asked, and as always I’ve agreed, to a request from the copyright holder to remove the image. All that fine print aside, this is a hot liplock, right?
Sensationally sexy liplock between Christian and Calvin. The authenticity is well-established long ahead of time, as they both telegraph all along that they are turning each other on. If you still doubt it, their rock hard cocks straining the pouches of their trunks should prove the point.
My vote goes to Drake’s kiss-‘n’-pin of gorgeous newbie Nino “Babyboy” Leone. It ticks off all of my boxes, including sweat, passion, simmering aggression, and what is quite obviously open lust. This is one of the most brutal matches this year, which makes the incredibly tender ending that much more dizzying. Squarely in the homoerotic sweet spot.
When it comes to quantity, Charlie and Blaine very well may have locked lips the most in their ginger-off in the backyard. I believe Blaine gets the award for popping Charlie’s (kissing) cherry first in his homoerotic wrestling career, but Charlie is quite clearly abundantly skilled in sucking face and using it as a defensive maneuver on the mats. For kissing as chess match move, I give this liplock a close second place on my ballot.
I get the impression that I am as big a fan of Chris Xaos as most of the rest of you are of Mike Martin. So between the two of us (you, me), we should be crazy for their scorching hot mat match this year. The liplock is more teasing than passionate, for my tastes. That said, I’d change my vote for a chance to stick my tongue down Chris Xaos’ throat (well, if he’s naked).
There’s nothing teasing about Christian and Jeremy’s passion at the end of their hot and rough mat match. This is a full on make out session, and it’s lathered in sweat, and it’s got a half a cup of aggression still playing out, and I fully believe these boys are into each other. Christian is the reigning kissing master at BG East, which may work against him this time around for the potential vote splitting with his liplock on Calvin.
Best Wrestler Spotlight
It seems like a testimony to a wrestler’s marketability to get an entire DVD release devoted to one person. So the three nominees this year for Best Wrestler Spotlight represent some major fan favorites.
Biff follows up with his victory as Debut of the Year last year with multiple nominations across the ballot, including for his Wrestler Spotlight. He’s compelling and gorgeous. I actually think the strength of this collection is in the quality of his opponents, though. You get the impression everyone wants a shot at this ridiculously hot beefcake. This is a very close second place for me.
Has anyone ever starred in 3 Wrestler Spotlight DVDs before? Although this collection tends toward showing off Coop’s work as a gorgeously bashable babyface, his mat match with Jake Ryder gives some awesome flashes of Dr. Cooper hanging out his shingle. The quality of his opponents is less consistent than the other two Wrestling Spotlights, but Coop has emerged as such a fantastic, complex, competitive, multifaceted character, that I’m persuaded (just) to cast my vote for him.
Chace’s spotlight is sort of a retrospective of his career, featuring him as the go-go boy, the beefsteak, and the fitness model that he has been at different phases of his wrestling. His end of the bargain is less consistent than the other two Wrestling Spotlight stars, which is to be expected considering these matches come from such drastically different parts of his career. Still, although there’s nothing to complain about, I enjoyed Coop’s cubed spotlight the best.
Best 2016 Overall Match
Now the free for all starts. I know well that fans are fierce about their favorites, and when comparing apples to oranges, there’s no pretense of objectivity or even a measurable standard to point to. Seven times out of 10, I’m biased toward ring matches. I tend to favor big personalities and hot bodies in equal measure. I like to be surprised. I like to be made to laugh. And it is essential that I get hard. With all those biases in mind, I’ll tell you how I see the field for Best of 2016.
First on the ballot is my pick for the Best Overall Match at BG East in 2016. It’s an instant classic. It’s sexy as hell. Two incredible debuts. Drama, drama, drama. Very high quality pro wrestling. Intramural rivalries. And dick pic selfies. It’s everything I could want in a match (except for a copy of those dick pics).
A very close second place for me is this masterpiece on the mats between Drake and Skrapper. If I’d had the option, I very well might have picked this over Mason and Kid Karisma for the Best Mat Battle, but alas, the nominating committee didn’t see fit to give me the chance. The wrestling is outstanding. The erotic tension is thick and juicy. And the boys are real and beautiful. The only edge TTT19 has on this for me is the full throttle pro ring vibe.
So put Drake in the ring with Kayden Keller, and you might think I’d be unable to resist. I resist, though. It swings hard for a slasher vibe, but doesn’t quite connect. TTT19 and Drake’s work in Matmen 26 hit the bullseye better. And then there’s Drake’s gear to consider (smh).
Watching cocky indy pro Kirk Donahue get trampled by a “mere” underground phenom like Dr. Cooper is guaranteed to tickle my funny bone and get me hard. This is a magnificent beatdown and totally worthy of a shot at the title, but it just didn’t get my vote.
That’s right, haters, Drake Marcos anchors a full half of the Best Match nominees this year! I recently referred to 2016 as the year of the rookie, but it may have to be rebranded as the year of Drake. The heat is scorching in his match with Ethan. And I do love seeing bully-Ethan face off against someone who gives it right back to him. But the raw rage and bitterness don’t quite put this match over Drake’s match with Skrapper for me, and neither quite persuade me to tip them over Tag Team Torture 19.
See all my comments above about why I voted for this as Best Mat Battle, and then remind yourself that this does not take place in a wrestling ring. It’s immensely satisfying, funny, fierce and brutal, and it gets extra points in my book for Mason’s perfect (perfect) choice in undergarments. But I’m still throwing my one, lone vote to the fierce foursome in TTT19.
The real winner is you and me, of course. Such a rich, entertaining, arousing body of work from BG East in 2016 is why BG East is the first place I go for that particular mix of homoerotic wrestling that keeps me satisfied. Congratulations to all of the nominees (except for Kirk). You are, every last one of you, gorgeous to watch mix it up in the ring, on the mats, and everywhere else that the Boss’ imagination takes us. Thanks for all of the distractions in 2016 that kept me from the abyss of absolute despair over current events
Tis the season for year end retrospectives. I’m delighted to see Alex’s bold calls on his favorites of the year, drawing from across a wide swath of the homoerotic wrestling industry and reflecting some sensational wrestling. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that BG East will again do their Bestie Awards, so that I can obsess further about the highs and lows and gauge where I fall along the distribution of BG East fan tastes. Like the neglect of hot legs, I got to wondering what other categories of objects of my homoerotic wrestling lusts will likely also not be reflected in the mainstream polls and retrospectives. Since this blog is all about me (I keep repeating that because some people seem to keep forgetting it), I’m paying a little more attention to some of the niche categories that attract my attention, even if they don’t seem to be the subject of many/any other best of lists.
Even though this is all about me, I’m happy to have you chime in with your opinions (apart from nasty insults). So feel free to register your votes in these waning, dark days of 2016. I’ll report out the results of the polling, as well as let you know who I pick for top honors, in a few days. Today’s unsung hero category of homoerotic wrestling is Sexiest Nipples.
This category is tough to pin down the specifics, but I most definitely know what I like when I see it. The topic of attractive nipples pops up frequently in my posts, so it’s little wonder that I have opinions about who showed off the hottest nips in wrestling this year. If I have a criteria for judging sexy nipples, I’m sure size, symmetry, and placement are playing a part, but ultimately, it comes down to the nips that make my mouth water. I’ve picked my top 5 for you to vote on, but feel free to write-in a candidate in the comments below, as well as share your criteria for judging sexy nipples.
My slate of nominees for Sexiest Nipples in Homoerotic Wrestling for 2016 are as follows (in alphabetical order):
I think I may have become too serious in the past 41 days or so. Sure, I believe the very fabric of our fundamental social contract as a modern society is unraveling. And, yeah, I have to acknowledge that I’ve been feeling happy not to have children to worry about suffering in the coming new world disorder. But there’ve got to be some reasons to smile these days. As if reading the secret thoughts of my darkest hours, a long-standing, anonymous, yet dependable friend suddenly reached out and dropped a boatload of candid, behind-the-scenes photos smuggled off the sets of BG East, starring some of the most sensationally sexy wrestlers on the planet taking a little off the cuff joy in life.
OMI (Our Man Inside) has long been aware of my pleasure at seeing candid images of the heroes, villains, and whipping boys who star in the homoerotic wrestling fantasies that I enjoy so much. Far too easily, we who are fans can forget that there are actual people behind the made-for-pro wrestling characters and storylines that we tune in for. Too often, we take our prerogatives as consumers too literally. We collapse the people who put in the time to craft their bodies for wrestling sport entertainment into the products they star in. So we too often feel free to critique not just the products, but the people. We act as if it’s our right, from the anonymity of our side of the computer screen, to trash people based on our tastes and preferences in wrestling entertainment, dismissing the people themselves as worthless if we judge their wrestling products or performances to be uninspiring. I delete comments from the pages of this blog when I think they’ve stepped over that line, because that’s not what this blog is about. People can, and do, do that anywhere and everywhere else on the internet. This blog is about celebrating the industry, promoting the best of what I enjoy in homoerotic wrestling, and encouraging producers and wrestlers alike to continue to titillate and innovate for a homoerotic wrestling sensibility.
So I particularly enjoy these candid shots that give just a glimpse of the men behind the masks (whether literal or figurative). I know that there are some who would likely prefer not to see behind the curtain. I respect that. But these rare glimpses of these hot hunks’ humanity make me love this industry even more.
We don’t have to like them all. Fuck, that’s the whole point really. Some of the hottest wrestling happens when hunky characters who I despise lie, cheat, and steal their way into contention in the ring. The rules of polite (straight) society do not apply in the homoerotic wrestling universe in which these magnificent men show up and throw down, putting bodies and egos and sometimes even their asses on the line in these Greek melodramas that we enjoy so passionately. In that world, these men can fly. They can be broken to pieces and pick themselves right back up and battle on with nothing but sheer will stitching them together. In that world, they’re devious and diabolical. They’re naive and gullible. They’re virtuous to a fault and psychologically flawed to perfection. In that world, they may or may not even be aware that we are crushing on them, debating about them, pulling for or rooting against them. They are apart from us, operating by different rules, and the distance can make us imagine that our estimation of them, in this world, also need not abide by conventions of common decency.
But in this world, they’re guys like you and me. Well, guys who probably work out more, eat better, and, if they’re any good, train to wrestle beyond what 99% of fans ever do. But in my experience, they’re just guys, most of whom are charming and complex, a patchwork of pride and insecurity, just like all of us who are afflicted by this human condition.
And in these waning days of 2016, I could probably use with more glimpses of genuine humanity. I wish every one of these smiling studs success and good fortune in the coming year. I want them to know that they are appreciated, even beyond being adored by those of us who are fans. When they’ve peeled their bruised and battered bodies off the mats, when the cameras are off and the street clothes are on, when they clock into their day jobs where people don’t even know that they are phenomenally sexy fantasymen with superhuman strength and skill when they strip their hot bodies down to supertight trunks, I hope their lives are filled with happiness. They are beautiful and brave, powerful and provocative. They’re terrifying and titillating, inspiring and inciting. They turn us on and transport us to a world in which our fantasies of gorgeous gladiators locked in erotic combat play out, live action, before our very eyes.
Wrestlers, when you’ve had your spine snapped in an OTK backbreaker and punched in the testicles until you’re a screaming, writhing mess on the mat, after you’ve gotten us off with your beauty and your might, I hope the world is kind to you in the coming year. Thanks for smiling. ~Bard
Having recently moved, I’m getting accustomed to a lot of new things. The weatherman keeps reporting on “thund-uh-stoams.” There are apparently 100 ticks for every human being in the region. And it’s fucking hot.
That last part makes me rethink my decision to ignore places with swimming pools in my housing search when I moved here a month and a half ago. I’ve always thought of pools as a pain in the ass. And, honestly, this climate calls for outdoor pools no more than about 25% of the year, so it seemed like a waste. But damn. It’s fucking hot.
I’m sure I’ve posted here about my ambivalence about the swimming pool genre in homoerotic wrestling, but I’m too lazy right now to look it up for you (did I mention how hot it is?). So let me just reiterate. On the con side, pool wrestling too often submerges more than half of the available eye candy. Upper bodies are privileged as the only thing we can see most of the time (and neglecting attention to hot legs is another, more global complaint I make often). There’s probably about 80% of wrestling holds that just don’t translate to a pool. A Boston crab would likely lead to manslaughter charges.
But on the other end of the ambivalent spectrum, I love wet muscles. On that point, sweat, shower scenes, and oil wrestling tweak the same kink in me that pool wrestling does. There’s also something inherently playful about pool wrestling. Watching homoerotic wrestlers do it, it certainly appears to take many of them back to the same days of juvenile, carefree summers getting yelled at for horsing around in and around the pool, playfully bullying chums by seeing who can dunk the other, games of chicken, perched on top of each others’ shoulders and seeing who can topple whom.
While I couldn’t stand an exclusive diet of homoerotic wrestling in the pool, like fresh corn on the cob and the sweetest of watermelons, it’s a seasonal treat that can work for me. Though I have to say I prefer it to conclude with bronzed bodies baking in the sun, making out naked poolside.