Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month Interview

Cage Thunder had a quick reply to my announcement that he’s one of the co-owners of my title of homoerotic wrestler of the month: “About fucking time!”  Building from that endearing exchange, I managed to get the legendary heel to agree to answer some questions on the occasion of his reign.

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Cage Thunder
Bard: Congratulations on earning the homoerotic wrestler of the month title! Masked Mayhem 9 is incredibly sexy! What was it like for you teaming with Lightning Rod for your 2-on-1 destruction of that hunky little Stinger?
Chemistry!

Cage Thunder: It’s about fucking time. What’s wrong with you, anyway? You’ve figured out who my tag partner was—so you can imagine what an honor it was to be teamed with one of my wrestling idols—I can be just as big of a fan-boy as anyone! (laughs) And we definitely had chemistry in the ring…as you can tell from the video and from the stills, my dick was hard from the get go. I hope we can team up again… I’m certainly up for it, although I’m so attracted to him it’s hard for me to focus!

Bard: Consider the delay in your ascendency to the title as evidence of my lapse of judgment! So, categories often fail to fully capture the scope and depth of an artist’s work, so when I call you a “heel,” it feels awfully inadequate. How do you describe your body of work as a wrestler?

Cage Thunder: Sexual heeling (laughing)? I kind of like “lord of the ring” or “ringmaster.” 


Bard: (laughing) All three of those work for me!  Speaking of bodies, you always look incredible! You’ve clearly crafted a body built for destruction. For any aspiring masked heels out there, do you have any tips for physical conditioning for ring domination?

Adding up to HOT!

Cage Thunder: I do, don’t I?  I put a lot of work into my body. But fitness is more than weight-lifting, which so many people forget. It’s also flexibility and endurance. I fucking hate doing cardio, but it’s a necessary evil. I’ve always been really flexible, so stretching is something I do pretty regularly.  I have to give some credit to my genetics. I put on size really easily, and I also have a huge rib cage with a narrow pelvic bone, which results in me having a ridiculously small waist. Even at my heaviest and most out of shape, my waist size has never gone above 32-33; at my most lean I was a 28. I think I look best when I’m at a 31, frankly—smaller is too lean.  I’ve wanted to get up to 200 pounds for quite some time, but was reluctant to gain weight for a very long time. Thank to some injuries and teaching myself how to cook Louisiana cuisine, I did get really heavy for a while, but am leaning down now. My muscles are a lot bigger—and my goal is to get down to about 200-205 with a 31-32 waist. Right now I’m at 212 with a 32-33. 

Bard: Mmmm, numbers are hot! Whatever the calculus, it’s all adding up to one hot body! Do you have any mentors in the craft of brutal wrestling domination? What are some lessons you’ve learned from them?

Cage Thunder: Kid Leopard. The man has forgotten more about wrestling than I’ll ever know. I was already sort of a heel when I came to BGEast, but his mentoring, advice, and experience helped me develop into the wrestler I am now. There have been some amazing heels at BGEast over the years—the Brooklyn Bodywrecker; Clint Morgan; Cruz; Jose; The Enforcer; Shane McCall come to mind off the top of my head—all of whom are/were masters of the ring. I’ve learned from watching them, too. There’s nothing like watching a master heel just take some screaming muscle boy apart, is there? I’ve actually wrestled the Bodywrecker privately—that was a LOT of fun, and I learned a lot. I really enjoy wrestling other heels, frankly—there’s nothing hotter than a heel v. heel match to see who’s the bigger bad ass.

Bard: A private match with BBW?! Talk about a clash of the titans! That sounds seriously hot!  I’ve got a thing for hunks who wrestle in masks. You’re a perfect case in point: you’ve got a smokin’ sexy body, but damn it all if that mask doesn’t multiple my arousal a dozen times over. Other than turning on guys like me, is there anything else behind your choice to wrestle in a mask?

Pink Puma never stood a chance!

Cage Thunder:  I’d already been doing some wrestling as a heel, but the mask completed the package. Again, it was the Boss’ idea, and I really took to it, frankly. I’d never really given it much of a thought before—despite living in a city that’s all about masking! Now, I fucking love it. I’ve done some private matches where all I wear is the mask…and unmasking your opponent? HOT.

Bard: Hot, indeed!  And speaking of heat, you’ve laid down some withering trash talk on the pages of this blog for one of my long-standing all-time favorite homoerotic wrestlers, Mitch Colby. What’s with the heat over hot, hunky Mitch? Is there a backstory there?

Cage Thunder: Listen at yourself—‘hot hunky Mitch.’ Excuse me for a second while I lose my lunch. I just flat out don’t like him—I’ve never liked guys like him; arrogant and think their looks somehow make them better than everyone else. I’d like to tie him up in the ropes and just pound on him for a few hours, you know, beat some fucking humility into the arrogant bitch—not that it would do any good. And hoist him up into a torture rack and make him scream like the bitch he is…strip his trunks off him and shove them into his mouth while I claw his pecs so his screams of agony are muffled…sleeper him until he’s almost out, then let up so I can torture him some more…I want to see how much those abs he’s so fucking proud of can handle. I bet he’d be begging me to stop within five minutes of the bell ringing. (laughs) If the stupid bitch even lasted that long…

What did Mitch Colby ever do to earn such ire!

Bard: Well, I for one never, ever get tired of seeing Mitch in action. I’ll continue to lobby for that match to happen! So let’s say you just climbed into the ring. You don’t know who your opponent is – never heard of him, never seen him before. He comes sprinting out of the locker room, hops the top rope inside the ring, and stands bouncing on the balls of his feet in the opposite corner from you. He’s your picture-perfect opponent. Describe him.

Cage Thunder: You know, I don’t really have a ‘type,’ per se. I’ve been accused of being a body fascist more times than I can count, but it’s not true. I like big guys, I like small guys, I like lean guys, I like bears—I like all different types, really—and at BGEast I’ve had a broad range of body types to wrestle; from little guys like Boyd Hicks and Kid Karisma to pretty muscleboys like Goldenrod (what a fucking poseur he was!) to big guys like Alexi Adamov and Drew Russell. I’ve always had a thing for classic heels, like Stan Hansen and Arn Anderson, but I also like the lean muscle studs like Kevin Von Erich and Randy Orton…. Oh! I know who—Ryan Kwanten from “True Blood.” Put him in some skimpy white trunks, white leather knee-high lace up boots, some white kneepads…oh HELL yeah. He’s my current fantasy opponent. You want to write that one up?

Let’s get Ryan Kwanten suited up and in the ring with Cage Thunder NOW!

Bard: I’ll get right on that, as soon as I can manage to somehow zip up my pants! The image of Ryan as a white knight staring you down across the ring is going to distract me for days! Mmm, mmm, mmm! Okay, so name names! Who’s posed the toughest challenge to you at BGE? Who’s the sexiest opponent you’ve faced? Who (other than Mitch) would you still love to get your hands on?

Cage Thunder: I would have to say the toughest challenge I’ve had at BGEast (in matches released thus far) would have to be Alexi Adamov. We didn’t do a one-on-one match; we were on opposite sides of a tag match. I’ll give him some props—he put me through the ringer; an amazing display of back torture, hold after hold after hold. When I watched the match later I was like, “damn!” He made me submit, and then we had to face each other again to open the next round, and he almost finished me off once and for all—Max came to my rescue—and while I did get in the ring with him a few more times during the match and just beat the holy hell out of him, I’ve always wondered how a singles match would turn out between us. I mean, I know I’d beat him—he doesn’t seem to ever be able to close out a match—but I think we’d have a good fight—probably would be a classic.

Sweaty, sexy Alexi put Cage Thunder through the ringer!

Bard: Fascinating! I’d never have guessed that Alexi would be the first name out of your mouth! He’s so damn pretty, it’s easy to forget that he’s one big, tough son of a bitch as well! What about sexiest?

Cage Thunder: All of my opponents at BGEast were sexy, no question about that. I’d say the sexiest wrestler I’ve ever been in the ring with is undoubtedly Lightning Rod. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Sensuality just fucking oozes out of his pores…he’s one of those men you KNOW would be the best fuck you’ve ever had, the kind that would inspire me to all kinds of sexual depravity…I’d like to be locked in a motel room with him for a weekend. FUCK.


Bard: No argument from me there!

Cage Thunder: I also have to give props to Boyd Hicks. I don’t know what it was about him, but the minute I laid eyes on him my cock get hard, and it stayed hard all the way through the match. We had chemistry, for sure. We’re supposed to get together for a private match the next time I’m over there, and I’m really looking forward to it.  Kid Karisma has one of the most gorgeous asses I’ve ever seen, and Punk Puma was a sexy boy, too. Damn, I’ve wrestled some hot guys! 

“…one of the most gorgeous asses I’ve ever seen…”

Bard: I’ve toyed with the idea of creating a title for most gorgeous wrestling ass on the planet, which would obviously belong for all eternity to Kid K! And Pink Puma is another long, long, long-standing crush of mine. So who else would you like to face?

Cage Thunder: Let’s see, who at BGEast would I like to wrestle that I haven’t? I’ve got a thing for Jake Jenkins and Austin Cooper—they are pretty boys; maybe Lightning Rod and I could do a tag match with them on the other side of the ring. Joe Robbins. Braden Charren. I’ve always wanted to wrestle Chris Bruce. Denny Cartier—holy Christ, that one! Patrick Donovan would be fun in the ring, I think. Oh, man, how could I forget the Enforcer? A ring war to see who the real masked stud of BGEast is? Talk about Masked Mayhem! Chase LaChance has also beefed up real nice.  But really, I’d be willing to take on anyone on the roster, past or present.

Bard: That doesn’t surprise me. You certainly wrestle like you’ve never met an opponent you aren’t thrilled to crush! You blogged recently about your early wrestling career in which you weren’t quite the unstoppable brutalizer that you are these days. You describe how it can feel to get seriously worked over by a dominating opponent. I quote you here, when you say, “Fuck you pussy – it feels good.” Where do you think the connection comes from between dishing out or taking punishment in the ring and getting turned on?

Cage Thunder: (laughing) As I said earlier, I’m pretty flexible, so I can be stretched a lot further than just about anyone. Usually guys are screaming out a submission long before they get stretched out as far as I can go. The great irony is that I am SO flexible that I can’t really stretch myself as far as I need to be stretched on my own; I need someone else to stretch me. So when someone, you know, puts me into a banana split or a Boston crab, it DOES feel good—the stretch feels incredible to me because I can’t stretch myself like that on my own.  But that’s not really what you asked, was it? It’s really a primal, masculine thing. When you’re dominating another man, you’re proving yourself to be the better animal. And its arousing—very much so. In wrestling, your body is your weapon, and you’re proving your body is better, you’re stronger, more dominant, more masculine…how can your cock NOT get hard?

Bard: I’m the last person to have an answer to that question!

Cage Thunder: And the flip side of domination is submission, which is also arousing. Is there anything sexier than a dominant man, who can control you, of being completely at his mercy? It’s also really sexy to test your own limits, see how much you can take. My profile on Globalfight sums it up: “Beat me or prepare to be beaten.” I love being beaten, dominated…but you have to earn it; I’m not going to just roll over and let you have your way with me. Fuck that. Beat me or be beaten…and if you don’t beat me, be prepared, because I will fucking beat you down and humiliate you, you will be my bitch when I am finished with you—and I’ll decide when you’re finished. I ask for no quarter, and I give none.

Bard: Damn.  Um, yeah. Damn! You’ve said it better than I’ve ever heard it said before! You consistently deliver some of the sexiest, most erotic wrestling content being produced, as far as I’m concerned. What do you think about the state of the homoerotic wrestling industry these days? Where do you see it heading in the next 10 years? Who are the rookies you see in the business who you think could have staying power over the long-haul?

Cage Thunder: I don’t really pay all that much attention to other companies, frankly. I’ve been accused of being a BGEast shill with my blog, which is bullshit. I write about BGEast matches and wrestlers because they’re the ones that turn my crank the hardest. I do buy some stuff from Rock Hard from time to time; they have some beautiful boys wrestling for them—some of them have come over to BGEast, in fact. I wish that Lucas Payne would…I’d love to get in the ring with him. He’s a sexy fuck, and he’s talented.

Lucas Payne: “…a sexy fuck, and he’s talented.”

Bard: Ah, Lucas Payne! Another homoerotic wrestler of the month! The idea of him bringing what he’ got and BG East doing with it what it does… wow!

Cage Thunder: I hate the companies that pretend their audience isn’t gay men. Get a grip, bitches. Straight men and women aren’t buying your goddamned product; they can watch WWE on pay-per–view or basic cable. I think it’s homophobic, frankly. BGEast is not ashamed of their audience and they say so, right up front: “gay interest wrestling videos.” I won’t give my money to a company that’s ashamed of why I’m buying their product. It’s my porn, and always has been. A match doesn’t have to wind up erotic for me to enjoy it, but if there’s a physical erotic connection with my opponent I’m not going to push him away and say, “Oh, no, I just wrestle.” I prefer my opponents be in decent shape, if for no other reason than I want the match to last a while; I don’t want to get all suited up and then have him poop out after ten minutes.

Bard: I hear you! And I completely agree about never-say-gay gay wrestling as homophobic. I’d pay a whole lot more attention to other companies if they came out of the closet!

Cage Thunder: I don’t really know about the business end of the business; but I assume as with everything, it’s taken a hit with the economy. And I know piracy is a major issue. I don’t know why these douchebags think it’s okay to steal; calling it piracy doesn’t make it hip and cool, because it’s still fucking stealing. If you came into my house and stole one of my DVD’s, how is that different from downloading it for free from some motherfucking asshole’s free site? And even if the motherfucker who put it up paid for it to begin with, you’re not buying the right to distribute it to the entire world for free. It’s theft, and it should be called what it is. The music industry put a stop to that shit.

Bard: The boys at BG East talked about this quite a bit when I visited there last year. They clearly see it is a real threat to the viability of the industry, not to mention their company. Any thoughts about where the industry is heading?

Cage Thunder: I can’t predict what the industry will be ten years from now because I can’t foresee how technology is going to change and develop. Ten years ago I would have never dreamed of digital downloads or even DVD’s, for that matter. (I do NOT miss videotape.)

Bard: Neither do I. Blue balls waiting to rewind, stop, and start to find the choice piece of action were horrible!

Cage Thunder has respect for Z-Man

Cage Thunder: As for what newcomers have staying power, I’d say that Austin Cooper, Kid Karisma, Jake Jenkins, and Z-Man will be stars for as long as they want to be. Z-Man gets a lot of shit—I’ve seen some really awful smack talked about him on-line, but he’s got a great body and he has talent. The stuff he’s done for BGEast has really started tapping his potential, and there’s even more there. Kid Karisma is just a stud. I really like Morgan Cruise, too—he’s impressed the hell out of me, as has Diego Diaz. And Joe Robbins—I hope he sticks around for a while. The Boss always seems to come up with amazing new talent. 


Bard: I admit that I’m guilty of having given Z-Man my fair share of that shit. I’m also happy to say that I’ve completely turned the corner since he’s been working with BG East. And every one of the guys you mention are absolutely golden in my book!


Cage Thunder: And I’m not ready to hung up my trunks just yet.


Bard: (laughing) That’s fantastic news! I’m looking forward to seeing more of your potent brand of homoerotic wrestling entertainment! You’re a class act, and I’m grateful for this chance to get to know more of the man behind the mask!

Cage Thunder hasn’t hung up his trunks just yet!

Short Cuts

I won’t name names, because that ALWAYS gets me in more trouble than it’s worth. I’ll just say that the same disappointing thought has occurred to me more than once recently as I’ve been sampling homoerotic wrestling new releases.  This recurring thought is, Grabbing crotch does not make wrestling homoerotic.

100% homoerotic wrestling featuring (among many other elements) Mitch Colby grabbing Derek da Silva’s crotch in Crotch Crushers 1.

Do you know what I mean? I’ve seen an anecdotal rise in the number of wrestling products marketed to you and me in which the most homo and/or erotic content is almost entirely limited to a crotch grab. Now, I love a nice crotch grab. That goes for all sorts of contexts and purposes, actually.  The feel of a pulsing, raging cock in my hand is absolutely intoxicating! Two raging cocks in my hand, and I’m guaranteed to have a hangover the next morning. I do not have anything at all against the homoeroticism of taking another man’s cock firmly in hand, per se.

Jobe Zander looks like he’s searching for his keys at the bottom of his purse in Can-Am’s DeCrotchery 3

But my beef, so to speak, is the over reliance on this device to sell wrestling as gay. I realize that there’s a sub-fetish contingent out there with a particular kink for watching and/or experiencing cock abuse. While I don’t count myself in that particular tribe, I can appreciate and get turned on by some cock control as a tool of soul crushing erotic domination. But if that’s really the only element in a match that might distinguish it from a TBS prime time mainstream episode of plasticized canned wrestling drama, then it’s just got one toe on our side of the fence, as far as I’m concerned.

Gino Liotta and Joshua Goodman engage in mutual crotch crushing as just one element of steamy action in Crotch Crushers 2.

Running across a bevy of barely homoerotic wrestling trying to take a short cut with crotch shots as credentials for checking in with you and me as gay-oriented has started to grate on my nerves.  So sure, you squeezed his balls… if you’ve got a disinterested look on your face, it sort of douses the heat. You grabbed a handful of whatever is stuffed down the front of his trunks, okay. But, if neither your hand nor his suffering seem to sell me that you’re about to rip him apart out of a primal lust to own his muscled body, then the stagecraft wears thin.

Friend of neverland, Ben Monaco, convinces me long before he goes for Alex Arias’ crotch that he’s all-in for homoerotic wrestling in Mat Rookies 1!

All this begs the question, of course, what it is that distinguishes some wrestling as homoerotic and others as something else. Of course, mainstream wrestling can turn me on (when it isn’t pissing me off with over-the-top homophobia). Just about any wrestling itself speaks to me as homoerotic almost by definition.  But I propose that there’s an ontologically different beast that is homoerotic wrestling. I’ve danced around this topic many times in the past. It’s a know-when-I-see-it sort of concept, in large part. It also overlaps with the cliche of “chemistry” between wrestlers, which is nearly impossible to quantify but, nevertheless, is unmistakable when its absent. I don’t know that I can put a finger on the baseline requirements (for me), but what makes something distinctively homoerotic wrestling always hits me on many levels.

Muscleboy Tyler St. James checks for a hernia in Pro Sex Fight 8.

Of course, explicit sexuality never hurts to sell wrestling as homoerotic. A suck, a fuck, a kiss even (especially), and I’m a long way to being sold that this wrestling is all about me and my kink. Hell, just having the boys talk openly about the eroticism hanging in the air between them is plenty to suck me in, and when it’s done right, eroticized banter will rev me up a hundred times hotter than an going-through-the-motions post-match fuck.

Reese Wells works 5 different angles at once in dishing out dominating abuse over  Jobe Zander’s package in Ball Busters 1.

It doesn’t require explicitness, though. It can be the fixed gaze of one wrestler and the self-conscious glance at the ground by the other that piques my homoerotic wrestling gaydar. It can be the intimacy of the setting, the gear, the lighting even, that contribute to making me recognize that this is homoerotic wrestling.  It can, and often is, one wrestler so narcissistic that he convinces me that, if humanly possible, he’d fuck himself into a stupor if that annoying opponent of his would just get the fuck out of his face.

Michael Vineland works the joystick from behind in Pro Sex Fight 8.

The best in the business push the homoerotic button from the instant the camera brings them into focus. Homoerotic wrestlers of the month Cage Thunder and (spoiler alert… keep reading at your own risk… oh, wait, too late!) Lightning Rod aka KV are beautiful examples. A half a second after I see their eyes lock onto the body of their opponents like sizing up a juicy filet, I understand without a doubt that the combat that’s about to unfold is first and foremost sexual. They communicate a hunger to grab hold of and consume their opponent that’s instantly arousing. The crotch grab is perfectly homoerotic when they latch on and threaten to rip an opponent out by the roots, because of everything else they’ve done to make it clear that they get off on this!

In Ball Bash 2, Reese Wells gets harder the more vicious Jonny Firestorm attacks his crotch! Now that’s homoerotic and hot!

There are plenty of wrestling products that push me way over the edge without ever veering into crotch grabs, fucking, or nudity even. They’re often completely homoerotic in my eyes for a dozen other elements that signal to me that this isn’t wrestling for 8 year-old boys with g-rated comic book fantasies of heroes and villains.  And equally as true, a gratuitous ball claw or tug at a cock is seldom the end-game for landing a wrestling match firmly within the circle of what I consider gay-themed, for gay eyes, wrestling kink, or homoerotic.

Unmasked and unsheathed, Stinger swells with excitement as Homoerotic Wrestlers of the Month Cage Thunder and Lightning Rod batter his stinger mercilessly.

As the photos I’ve attached to this post illustrate, the crotch grab is a delightfully hot tool in the tool belt of the accomplished homoerotic wrestler.  When it’s dished out in measured quantity, it’s fantastic! When placed as an integral component of an onslaught of unmistakably homoerotic content, the crotch grab is often precisely the point at which I lose all self-restraint. However, and I’m not naming names, but I just need to say it: solely based on a wrestler grabbing his opponent’s crotch, it doesn’t make it homoerotic wrestling. A one-trick pony gimmick in an otherwise lukewarm bath of run of the mill wrestling does not a homoerotic wrestling match make.

Still-Frame Fantasies

I’ve been working my ass off so hard that the month of May is pretty much a wash when it comes to my favorite past-time: checking out new homoerotic wrestling releases. I’m just throwing in the towel and putting an asterisk in the homoerotic wrestler of the month competition for May 2012. The throne will remain empty for the month.  I have a strong suspicion that there will be a new title holder once June has played out, however. BG East has released Catalog 93, and it’s packed with some of my long time fantasyman crushes as well as more recent infatuations, any one of which could (and most of them have) easily bitchslapped the competition and claim the title. I’m also entranced with the hotness of new Rock Hard wrestler Britboy Will Stanley landing just in time for the queen’s diamond jubilee. Only 5 days into the month and based solely on still-frame fantasies, here are the immediate front runners for June’s title.
Denny Cartier crotch pins Joah Bindao

Denny’s back! Just the photos alone of hot Denny Cartier can tide me over, and in his Gazebo Grapplers 13 appearance he’s looking tastier than ever. Those eyes, that smile, the dimpled chin, wide strong shoulders, gorgeous chest, luscious ass, strong legs, and look at those forearms… all of that and some of the highest quality grappling I love, and Denny could easily be a 2-time homoerotic wrestler of the month. And hot little muscleman Joah Bindao is definitely a rising stock.

Jake Jenkins threatens to dismember Jayden Mayne
Gazebo Grapplers 13 is catching me eye from start to finish, including Jake Jenkins looking possibly hotter than I’ve ever seen. Is it the trunks? Is it that hot, “monkey boy” body? Is it that his eyes looking like he’s about to carve into Thanksgiving turkey as he stares down handsome scrapper, Jayden?  Jake’s done it once and could easily do it again, wrestling his way into another homoerotic wrestler of the month title.
Joshua Goodman’s crotch might choke out Christopher Bruce!

And yet another Gazebo Grapplers 13 match is turning my crank in still-frame! Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!) could read the phone book and I’d be off before he got to Aanerud (as long as he’s in nothing but those skimpy white trunks)! I’ve never seen a Mr. Joshua match that fails to make me weak in the knees, and pitting him against perennial powerhouse and sexy thinker Christopher Bruce could easily propel either of these men into the lead.  It seems impossible that Mr. Joshua has not yet owned the title of homoerotic wrestler of the month. Could his Susan Lucci moment arrive in June?

Stinger in trouble from every angle!

My, oh my, Masked Mayhem 7 could be a superhero homoerotic wrestling fantasy for the record books! Lean, sexy Stinger’s partner doesn’t show up, and the brave masked man agrees to face both legendary heel Cage Thunder and his new tag partner, unmistakably menacing long, hard hottie Lightning Rod. Cage Thunder has yet to own the title of homoerotic wrestler of the month on these pages, but could this be the month on the strength of what looks like an astonishingly sexy, brutal double-team?

Skip Vance in agony under the control of Kid Karisma

Speaking of astonishingly sexy, the pairing of incredibly hot champion jobber, Skip Vance and my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler (non-pornboy division), Kid Karisma, has the potential to be epic! I’ve lobbied the boys at BG East for a long-overdue Wrestler Spotlight starring Kid K’s world class muscle ass! Skip hasn’t held the title, but Kid K was living large and in charge as homoerotic wrestler of the month 11 months ago. Either of these stunners could easily own it this month.

Fiercely hot newbie Diego Diaz launches Morgan Cruise
Neither Morgan Cruise nor newbie heartthrob Diego Diaz have held the homoerotic wrestler of the month title yet, but I could easily see their face-off for Morgan’s Spotlight earning one of them the distinction for June. Hurricane Morgan is like a force of nature lately, leveling every hot, hunky face placed in his way. And ripped, snarling, Latino powerhouse Diego has captured my imagination like no current newcomer. It’s a rare feat to be homoerotic wrestler of the month on the strength of just 2 matches, but the Latino giant could definitely make that happen.

Mitch Colby makes batboy Aryx Qinn pucker up
Mitch Colby has owned every title I could ever dream up. If Mitch and Diego Diaz were to ever tag team,   my life could very well be complete. In the mean time, his hairy chested, sweat soaked ring pounding with Aryx Quinn makes Mitch an instant contender for a 2nd trip to the winner’s circle.
Austin sweats through his jock while he shows off Patrick Donovan’s best side.

Austin Cooper is everywhere lately! For sheer ironman hotness (not to mention Goldenboy beauty and a top notch bubble butt) Austin is a contender for the title he has yet to possess. And Patrick Donovan is an instant contender, and I strongly suspect that Patrick has made a pact with Satan, because he’s done nothing but get sexier and more gorgeous with each and every match he’s wrestled in his long and lustrous career! That ass alone deserves a title, and he could absolutely deserve the homoerotic wrestler of the month title for his Matmen 23 face-off with the Goldenboy.

Austin does chiropractic work on Britboy rookie Will Stanley.

And my last instant infatuation for the first 5 days of June is Rock Hard Wrestling’s rookie lovely, Will Stanley. See, Austin’s back (making for 2 nominations for the title this month), but like Joe, I’m immediately craving a closer look at handsome, ripped hunk Will Stanley. That body, that ink, that face, AND an accent? Nostalgia alone could tip the scales to Will Stanley, Esquire, in honor of the queen’s diamond jubilee.

Hot, hot, hot start to summer, homoerotic wrestling fans!

Pythons

Thunder’s Arena’s newest rookie sensation (aptly named): Python
Damn! Did you see the newest muscle stud at Thunder’s Arena? He wrestles as “Python,” which draws attention to the body part that certainly inspires hard-swallowing awe within me: his beautifully peaked biceps. There’s a lot on Python’s gorgeous physique to appreciate. He’s got a hot, broad upper back, beautiful pecs, very nice abs, and one damn adorably goofy grin. But again I say: damn! The peaks on those biceps are a—mazing! I haven’t seen his rookie debut with Angel yet, but I’ve got a deep down craving to see that right bicep of Python’s slowly wrapped around Angel’s neck from behind and then methodically flexed until the pointed peak of that monster crushes Angel’s throat in a name’s-sake rear choke. Follow that up with the rookie shoving that mountainous muscle in his dazed, battered opponent’s face and making him kiss it, and I’d be wasted (for at least a couple of minutes).

Can-Am’s iconic muscle man: Steve Sterling
Arms do not, as a rule, capture my attention first and foremost on most wrestlers. Not that I don’t appreciate hot, strong arms and especially Popeye-bulging forearms (Jonny Firestorm, I’m looking at you), but my eyes tend to instinctively lock onto other geography. Hot, meaty glutes, for example, or luscious, clawable pecs are frequently tops on my list. Armored abs, a hefty package (a-hem, Mr. Joshua), and thick, bear-trap thighs will tend to be higher on my list than arms. But on some wrestlers, and when I’m in the mood, arms light up my homoerotic imagination and make me feel all creative about the best uses for sculpted arm muscles. For example, I can’t help but picture Can-Am classic Steve Sterling cracking walnuts between his bodybuilder biceps and freakishly huge forearms. Then I tend to picture my cock trapped in the same spot, and with a little oil, working up a frot fantasy that only a musclebound arm like that can satisfy.
Thunder’s Arena’s Muscle Phenom: Coupe
Thunder’s resident muscle freak Coupe’s biceps aren’t as massive as Steve Sterling’s, but holy fuck that vascularity and shape makes me gasp every time I see them. Coupe is a phenomenon. I often throw around the hyperbole of wrestlers sporting 0% body fat, but it’s no exaggeration when it comes to muscle freak Coupe. He’s so cut and sculpted that I have to imagine if Coupe just faced the right opponent, he’d bring a man to his knees by just flashing those double biceps and that cocky I-dare-you-not-to-lick-them grin. This man needs to star in a wrestling match-turned full contact body worship feature like nobody’s business! Thunder’s may not be the company to produce it, but I’ll be the first in line to be that opponent!

Reese Wells and his Magic Biceps

I’ve noted on many occasions the particular magic that Reese Wells (aka Brody Hancock) weaves over me. He’s a living paradox. That pubescent face of his is completely diverting from the fact that the boy sports incredibly mature, aesthetically gorgeous muscle! He seems like one of those genetic freaks who’s probably always complaining about how hard it is for him to put on weight (which, in and of itself, is a reason for a beating in my book). I swear, at the right angle, in the wrong light, Reese would be easily mistaken for a skinny kid. Then BOOM!!!!… the boy flashes a double bicep and out of nowhere he’s got astonishing muscle mass squeezed into his upper arms like surgically inserted softballs. Where the fuck does he hide those guns!?!  There’s a skinny-kid-opens-a-can-of-whoop-ass-on-his-big-bad-bully fantasy just dying to be taped, culminating in Reese flashing one of his Houdini biceps in his former-tormentor’s face while cranking out a load of cum all over the humiliated bastard’s chest.

BG East Fantasy Man: Tyrell Tomsen
BG East’s Tyrell Tomsen’s arms let loose a flood of lustful fantasies for me frequently. So sure, Tyrell’s got the whole package (that should probably be Package with a capital “P!”). Tyrell’s ass, legs, pecs, tiny little waist, washboard abs… they’ve all been star players in climactic fantasies of mine. But when I watch Tyrell actually wrestling, it’s his gargantuan biceps that frequently have me muttering at the screen. He’s got the raw mass of Steve Sterling and the stunning shape and cut of Coupe. There’s something pristinely paradigmatic about Tyrell wrapping those monsters around his opponent’s back, lifting the lucky fucker off his feet, and squeezing the breath and the will to live out of him while shaking his prey like a rag doll.  This scenario has been approximated, mind you, but I’m hard pressed to see how a lucky opponent in that predicament doesn’t cum with his cock getting crushed and dragged up and down across Tyrell’s washboard, so I’m picturing him tossing the loser to the mat with a pint of cum strung between them, and Tyrell forcing the bastard to lick him clean with some special attention paid to his sweaty armpits.
Can-Am’s Thiago Diaz is built to crush!

Can-Am’s Thiago Diaz has 2 equally prominent objects of my lusts: his fireplace poker cock and his incredibly huge arms! Rip Steve Sterling in the prime of his conditioning out of the past and place him side by side with Thiago, and I’d put money on Thiago as having the bigger upper arms. Steve would have the Can-Am newbie beat for overall body proportions, mind you. Thiago’s lower body lags behind his upper body development pretty dramatically, but those shoulders and arms are like a cartoon drawing of a muscleman superhero. And since we’ve already transported Sterling into the present from the prime of his career, I can’t help but get wildly turned on by the image of Thiago nearly ripping Steve’s head off in a dragon sleeper with his veiny, massive bicep pressed perfectly across the classic bodybuilder’s carotid.

BG East’s Magnificent Mitch Colby

So, sure, I’ve spilled more ink on the pages of this blog over every inch of Mitch Colby’s body than just about anything else, but honestly, those biceps! Sweet Jesus-or-whomever-else-you-pray-to! Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous! Strength, beauty, proportion… I can’t remember if I’ve ever seen it in a Mitch match, but in my mind, I’ve often pictured him with those mile-and-a-half-long limbs clamped around an opponent’s lower abdomen in a rear bearhug, lifting the luckyluckylucky loser off his feet and grinding his gorgeous cock into his opponent’s crack. Mitch-the-man squeezes a screaming submission out of him, then simultaneously takes the loser from behind while flexing his guns hypnotically as he generously jacks-off the overwhelmed plaything.
BG East One-Hit Wonder: Gary Myers’ biceps have biceps!

In hunting for which homoerotic wrestling arms send me shooting the farthest, I came across this image of BG East muscleboy, Gary Myers. I haven’t seen this match yet, but this should be the image next to the dictionary entry for “fantasy man.” So much to soak in, I know, but take a close look at those mind-blowing biceps.  The peaks on those monsters have peaks of their own!  It looks like this muscleboy only wrestled once, but fortunately, it was against the vicious sadist and bodybeautiful heel Jose. I can’t tell from the stills from the match whether Jose captured Gary from behind and locked up all those bulging muscles in a full nelson, but I can hope. And if Jose happened to do a little licking of Gary’s peaked peaks, then all is right with the world. If not, then this fantasy will have to live only in my imagination, though I can always hope to see it born out with one of the bicep-beauties still in the business today.
As I wrap up this small package, I’d just like to make the observation that several of the homoerotic wrestlers who I think of as having massive, gorgeous arms, on closer inspection really don’t. Not that there’s anything wrong with merely mortal muscle arms, of course. It’s the whole package with a sweet dose of attitude and kinetic eroticism that makes homoerotic wrestling my favorite kink and passion.  But when I’m in the mood that Thunder’s rookie Python puts me in, there’s something awfully arousing about the top shelf quality beef of musclebound arms in homoerotic wrestling competition.

Wrestling Romance

Valentines Day typically leaves me cold.  Rampant, conspicuous displays of heterosexual romance get on my nerves. But I feel like reclaiming the day for myself this year. One of my fondest devices in homoerotic wrestling is the tender turn after a seriously nasty, bitter battle. When the winner claims his prize and both wrestlers are as enthusiastic about carnal delights as corporal punishment, I’m seriously sold.  Thumbing through the file cabinet in my head (augmented by the search function in my favorite homoerotic wrestling sites), I’m coming up with a sadly short list of my top tender moments in homoerotic wrestling. It’s a satisfying jaunt down memory lane, however. So for this month’s reader’s poll, let me just ask you: which romantic wrestling pair should be crowned Mr. and Mr. Valentines Day Wrestling Couple of 2012?

Art Imitating Life: Christian Taylor and Skip Vance

Skip Vance and Christian Taylor get the pole position in this race to the climax, because Skip has let it be known through his Facebook page that he and Christian are, in real life, long-time lovers. This sent me (and at least one reader I’ve heard from) scurrying back to their ferocious mat room battle in Sexy Showdown 6: Sexier to reconsider the nasty humiliation and pain that these two hot, hard, lean grapplers pour out onto each other before settling in for some naked, sweaty, tender tongue wrestling. These boys get more hot and bothered the meaner the action turns, making me picture infinite homoerotic wrestling scenarios in the Taylor/Vance household. These two sweat soaked boys with their crotches grinding and their lips hovering over each other could totally redeem Valentines Day for me. How about you?

Teasing Done: Rafael Valmor and Blaine Janus

I have no idea what Rafael Valmor and Blaine Janus’ relationship is off the mat, but on the mat in Undagear 18, it was mind-blowing. Other things blew for me as well, and in no small part it was due to the gorgeous tension that Rafael builds by adamantly refusing to let Blaine kiss him throughout their increasingly amorous mat battle. You can just about see Blaine’s balls turn blue inside his tight red trunks as he wrings another sweat-soaked submission out of the Latin lover and leans in to taste victory, only to be shoved away as the brown-eyed boy refuses to give it away for free. Butts get squeezed with rising passion. The submissions get uglier. And once Blaine is just finally wasted with sexy Rafael stretched out on top of him, the curly haired adonis slaps on that priceless kiss on nobody’s but his own terms. Now that’s a love story worthy of Shakespeare! And it’s also an entirely convincing option for Rafael and Blaine to be the 2012 Mr. and Mr. Valentines Day Wrestling Couple.

Sure Thing: Marc Rion and Mitch Colby

On a completely different end of the spectrum (at least when it comes to bodies), I’m also strongly drawn to the outrageously hot sexual tension that rages like a wildfire from the first second Mitch Colby  steps onto the mat with one-hit-wonder Marc Rion as the climax (and I mean climax!) of Mitch’s Wrestler Spotlight.  Holy shit, their bodies are both off the charts, and I don’t care how good of actors they are, there’s some genuine lust slapped down all over their naked bodies! They’re so hot for one another, in fact, that the wrestling is nearly tossed out the window, which would be a cardinal sin in my book. Happily, they manage to get some hot, dominating wrestling in on top of other cardinal sins, earning my profound pleasure and a competitive bid to be poster boys for my Valentines Day redux.

Just can’t hide it: Jared Curzon and Gabriel Ross
Boy toy Gabriel Ross also sometimes dances just this side of forgetting the wrestling in my wrestling fare. But he and Jared Curzon strike such a heart-melting scene in their Motel Madness UK 5 tussle! Again, they’re raging hot for one another from go, and they’re so fucking adorable as to be nearly too sweet to swallow. Get a load of Jared’s luscious ass and monster cock, however, and you’ll reconsider any reluctance to swallow that you might have had. The back and forth between passionate embrace and bearhug makes my heart (and other parts of my anatomy) pound, and I would have no trouble seeing them as the redeeming Valentine’s Day for homoerotic wrestling fans.

Signed, Sealed, Delivered: Sean Patrick and Bud Orton
It’s hard to make a list of wrestling matches with over the top sexual tension turned tender without seeing Sean Patrick show up at least once. The infamous “Kisser” of classic BG East days, Sean slapped his lips on his opponents’ time after time, clearly turned on by the intimacy of domination wrestling. Pretty much anything on Sean’s wrestling resume could qualify, but I think this shot of him from Sexy Showdown 4 making out with always amorous Bud Orton while simultaneously locking him up tight in an ass-up, body contorting, completely humiliating spladle seems like it could be the iconic image of the erotic component of homoerotic wrestling. Oh yeah, sweat pours off of them like Niagra falls and the wrestling is fucking fierce! How do you feel about Sean and Bud being Mr. and Mr. Valentine around here?
Three’s Company: Shane McCall, Brooklyn Bodywrecker
and Liam Ryan
Another image that I’ve remarked on many times on this blog is the victory celebration with tag team partners Shane McCall and Brooklyn Bodywrecker sucking face in Tag Team Torture 2 while one half of the losing team, sexy little Liam Ryan, sucks on Shane’s cock through his trunks. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times, this story has GOT to be repeated, because there’s just nothing sexier than tag team partners/lovers battling for domination and getting more and more aroused as they pick to pieces and utterly humiliate their losing opponents (who are also lovers)! And eroticism in the ring is at least 20 times hotter than it is anywhere else, as far as I’m concerned! Maybe it’s not fair, but this pic proves the delightful possibility that the hottest homoerotic wrestling couple could easily be a threesome (or more)!  Shane, BBW and Liam get my nod as connecting all the dots between tender loving and hard slamming homoerotic wrestling.

Masks and Melting: The Enforcer and Blueboy

Again in the ring, the stunning image from Masked Mayhem 4 of Blueboy making big, bad bruiser Enforcer melt in the corner as he nibbles on his lips and prominent chin turns… me… ON! Two gorgeous bodies, masked in mystery and coated in sweat are a formula for arousing wrestling. But with Blueboy toying with the big heel’s nipple and leaning in close, crotch to crotch and tasting the hunky heel’s mouth, I’m totally turned into a blubbering romantic fool. Maybe Mr. and Mr. Valentines Day Wrestling Couple 2012 are hot, horny masked men?
Hurt So Good: Cruze/Jose and Patrick/Sean

Like I said, it’s hard not to have at least one Sean Patrick match on a list like this, and so here’s a second (with another recurring nominee).  I think of this as another iconic image in homoerotic wrestling from Tag Team Torture 1, with Jose and Cruze heaping agony and humiliation onto Sean and Patrick Donovan in the closing moments of their incredibly sexy victory. Stripped naked, locked into mirror image camel clutches and forced to kiss in the middle of the ring, Patrick and Sean prove that the erotic heat doesn’t have to come from opposite sides of the confrontation. Perhaps this is the most iconic image of homoerotic wrestling passion, and the winning “couple” is, in this case, a foursome of hot, horny, hung hunks with bodies locked together in gorgeous symmetry and power and complete domination.

So who do you think should get the nod? You only get one vote. Of course, these are only the nominees that came to my mind. You may have another set of favorites to suggest. So vote in the right margin, and if you select “other,” then name your wrestling picks for who should be Mr. and Mr. Valentines Day Wrestling Couple 2012.

"Bitch" Slap

Did you see Cage Thunder’s relentless rhetorical trashing of Mitch Colby in his blog a couple of days ago? He insists on referring to him as “Bitch Colby,” calling him out for bullying smaller guys in order to make Mitch look arrogant and tough. “He knows he’s hot,” Cage writes, “and he somehow thinks that makes him superior to everyone else.”

Cage also directs anyone who has a problem with his withering rhetorical assault on beautiful Mitch to come here to neverland where I “gush” over Mitch all the time. Setting aside my delight in the image of me “gushing” over (and on top of) Mitch, I can’t really honestly deny that I have a long history of frequently musing adoringly about how astonishingly hard Mitch turns me on.  I had an instant infatuation with him the moment I saw him step into the BG East gazebo to conquer sexy Alexi Adamov in a sweat-soaked battle of beautiful youthful arrogance and beautiful mature arrogance. My lust for Mitch has continuously burned ever since.

Mitch schools sexy Alexi –
Wrestler Spotlight: Alexi Adamov

And true enough, I’ve cited Mitch a total of 62 out of around 730 posts here at neverland! That’s nearly 8.5% of my posts that have lingered lustfully on the beauty, power, and highly erotic wrestling of Mitch. So I can understand Cage Thunder referring Mitch apologists here.  Mitch has made me gush with regular frequency on the pages of this blog (and elsewhere). Is there anywhere else to go to find more or more passionate worship of the 6’2″ work of art that is Mitch? Does anyone else obsess so adoringly on the look of ecstasy on his face every time he slides some poor, lucky, lucky fucker between those incredibly long, lean, gorgeous thighs and squeezes until he screams?

Mitch’s gorgeous legs deployed to perfection –
Motel Madness 8

I once sent Mitch an email begging for him to give me an interview. I never heard back. So I suppose it’s quite possible that Mitch is arrogant, with a cocky air of superiority about him.  Or perhaps he’s shy, at least when he’s off camera. Maybe I had the wrong email address. Maybe he was just busy at the time.  Maybe Mitch would like to come hang out in (very) friendly territory here at neverland to answer some questions and respond to the bitch-slap that Cage laid down on Monday.

It clearly isn’t just the big boys that Mitch likes to wrestle!
Sunshine Shooters 4 

Reading between the lines, for all of Cage’s trash talk directed toward Mitch, I detect that Cage may harbor something entirely different than contempt for the statuesque stunner of my fondest fantasies. Before any fellow Mitch-fanatics start flaming Cage, let me just point out that if you read his blog post closely, you’ll see that Cage talks longingly, dare I say lustfully, about a passion for witnessing Mitch getting pummeled. While I enjoy Mitch whether he’s pitching or catching in a homoerotic wrestling match, I can wholeheartedly understand Cage’s powerful enjoyment of watching earnest, gorgeous Mitch get picked apart, conquered and humiliated.  For my tastes, Mitch dominated is perhaps a shade more fantastically erotic than Mitch dominating. Further, I’d propose that the unmistakably aggressive tone in Cage’s post seems to me to be an implicit challenge for his own crack at testing Mitch’s mettle.

Cage Thunder always lays down the challenge!

Mmmmmm… I’m nearly gushing once again just thinking about the provocative potential in a match between Cage Thunder and Mitch Colby! How has this stroke of genius failed to happen already? Cage and Mitch are like two alligators stalking the waters of the Everglades, swallowing whole lesser creatures and growing big and confident and dangerous over the course of their long and impressive BG East wrestling careers. Surely it’s inevitable that two such foundational pillars of homoerotic wrestling over the past 5 years should face off. So, true enough, Cage concludes his recent blog post with a direct challenge to Vlad Varek. But I’m thinking Cage’s real target, his real call out isn’t for the nasty, brutal Russian (or at least not exclusively). I think Cage actually has his sights set on a certain tanned, muscled, sweet assed, earnest 6’2″ fitness god. I, for one, think Mitch ought to rise to the provocation, give me interview, and show up on Cage’s doorstep with jock strap in hand.

Mitch with his opponent firmly in hand –
Wrestler Spotlight: Mitch Colby

And now 8.6% of blog posts here at neverland include adoration for Mitch Colby!

Movement in the Ranks

The mental exercise of crowning “favorites” among the homoerotic wrestlers that I enjoy watching fascinates me. I get attached to my overall favorites. I don’t want to let them go, to let someone unseat them once I’ve said out loud, “This guy rocks me harder than just about anybody else.” So regular readers will back me up when I say that it doesn’t happen often that one of my favorites is replaced. Today is just such a momentum occasion, however. Mitch Colby has held the title of my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy or at least top contender for that title almost without pause since I started keeping track of such things. I find Mitch’s body profoundly moving, and there’s an authenticity to his wrestling that, without fail, has the effect of making it nearly impossible for me to tear my eyes away from him as he grunts, strains, flexes and crushes his way through one opponent after another. I’m deeply aroused by the sight of Mitch’s focused concentration as he picks apart some lucky loser, and I’m arguably even a little more aroused to watch Mitch throw everything he’s got at some superhuman freak only to be conquered and dominated in the end. Any new release with Mitch is instantly at the top of my to-buy list.
Mitch got those beautiful abs of his tested hard in Florida Fights 3
However, all that said, his latest new release came out in a batch of fantastic BG East wrestling that figuratively positioned Mitch side-by-side with a certain ferocious, rumbling bundle of nerves, nerve and sexuality that I’ve had my eye on for quite some time. I simply couldn’t ignore the juxtaposition of Mitch’s Florida Fights 3 bout and my growing crush on a certain grappler from Mat Scraps 1. While it’s certainly not that I don’t love Mitch’s high impact ring battle with Vlad Varek, I cannot help but note that Skrapper’s mat scrap against epic coverboy Z-Man has catapulted the skrappy one over top of favorite emeritus Mitch. It’s been a rare day in neverland that Mitch has been out of the the top two, but today I’m lustfully and enthusiastically elevating Skrapper to the position of number 1 contender for the title as my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy – right behind a dangerously quiet Trent Diesel.
The new #1 contender to the title of my
Favorite Homoerotic Wrestling Pornboy
I’m just going to put it right out there. I do not believe that Skrapper is pretty. I do, however, think he’s sexyasHELL.  Typically I wax poetic about the size and heft of my favorite wrestler’s bulges, but Skrapper is a different story. Not to say that he doesn’t have a gorgeous ass and more-than-a-mouthful of a package, but the first words that pop into my mind in contemplating Skrapper’s physique are lean, lanky, and wiry.  He’s got beautifully conditioned muscles in all the right places, but he’s no pretty coverboy with low slung pecs or massive biceps. At 5’10” and 145 pounds, he’s an astonishingly tight package without an ounce of bodyfat or merely gym toned muscle. He’s got an unconventionally handsome face with awesomely kissable lips and an aristocratic nose. I’d pick him out of any crowd as someone I’d desperately want to notice me. And if he did, and if he opened his mouth to speak, I’d be a goner.
“You’re losing so fast, dude!”

That voice! To be completely transparent, the word “Dude” is not a turn-on for me. And yet when Skrapper uses the word, as he does with relentless regularity, the timbre of his voice somehow skips right past my cerebellum and speaks directly to my cock. Perfect case in point: just about 2 minutes into his fearless face off with babyface extraordinary and homoerotic wrestler of the month, Z-Man. As is often the case, Skrapper starts wrestling about 2 speeds higher in intensity than his opponent. Z-Man looks for a moment like he’s going to have absolutely zero to offer against the raging focus of the skrappy one. “Damn!” Skrapper snarls, “you’re losing so fast, dude!” Holy shit, that irreverent, cocky, nothing to lose so I’ll fuck you over 9 ways to Sunday, skater badboy bass voice of his makes me nearly lose a load before Z-Man manages to get his groove going.

Beat that shit-eating grin off of face, Skrapper!!!

But it’s later in the match that Skrapper seals the deal to knock the knees out from under Mitch and demand my affections. Z-Man has a history (at least as far as I’m telling it) of hamming and mugging for the camera. BG East has been beating the living shit out of him since he arrived within their sphere of influence, such that he doesn’t have much time between grimaces to manage a cheesy smile. He does, however, still puke one out every so often, and they remain a serious buzz kill for me. So when Skrapper nearly rips the coverboy in half, he heaps on what is undeniably more punishment than is really necessary to make the muscleboy submit. When Z-Man hops up to his feet after conceding the fall, he looks like he’s ready to punch his fist through the back of Skrapper’s skull. “What!?” Skrapper demands. “That’s what you get for smiling at me, dude!” There. Right at that moment. Skrapper climbed into the top contender spot right there, punishing Z-Man not just for being pretty and cocky and screamin’ for it, but because Skrapper knows that fucking grin on the coverboy is a buzz kill and he deserves to be punished mercilessly anytime he pulls it out. I’ve been jonesin’ for someone to not only punish him for the shit-eating grin, but to call Z-Man out for it!

Driving home the point that you might want to just leave a
sleeping Skrapper lie.
Skrapper does not always win his matches. This is not a problem, and indeed it can heighten a wrestler’s allure as far as I’m concerned, if he makes the most of even a loss. Take, for example, Skrapper’s eventual loss at the hands of AJ Lyle in Undagear 17. Seriously, justice is on Skrapper’s side. He was just sleeping in the BG East matroom when AJ comes in, wakes him up, and tries to bully him out of his way. Fast-forward to the end of this scrap and you’ll be treated to Skrapper stripped naked and battered into complete and helpless exhaustion as the sweaty victor climbs on to use the skrappy one like his own electric blanket. Now rewind back to the beginning again, and watch how fucking irrepressible Skrapper is every single second of this match. True enough, he takes the loss and humiliation in the end. I sort of suspect he may have just had a hankering for a taste for giving up a cock-to-cock submission. But any way you slice it, pause the DVD at pretty much any point in the relentless battle, and you’re likely to see Skrapper firmly in charge or battling his way back from getting tossed around by his bigger opponent. Win or lose, you get the impression that Skrapper never really relinquishes the reins of psychological control in a match.

Kid Vicious & Skrapper’s understandable mutual admiration in Sexy Showdown 5: Florida Fun

It’s no wonder that in his relatively brief career in homoerotic wrestling, BG East has put him in the faces of some of the biggest and baddest boys on record. His encounter with notorious heel Kid Vicious left me breathless for all the right reasons, first and foremost the amazement to watch KV have to work to keep up with the eroticism (which he does, of course)! This is the most intensely erotic match I’ve seen Skrapper in, and frankly I’m not sure if there are many other than the likes of KV who can really match the inherent sensuality and eroticism that Skrapper brings with just a look and a snarl. There are moments in the match that make me gasp because Skrapper doesn’t just get riding time and take control of arguably the baddest boy in the stable: he humiliates him. Folding KV up, sitting on his face, and peeling the vicious bastard’s trunks down to expose his ass in utter helpless humiliation is a position that far bigger and more accomplished wrestlers have only dreamed of.

It’s not easy, but clearly it’s rewarding to take
Skrapper firmly in hand

This match is also where Skrapper earns his way into the adored ranks of homoerotic wrestling pornboys, the way I count them. Not only do both wrestlers lose their trunks, but KV succeeds in planting his ass across Skrapper’s mouth and, after pummeling Skrapper’s cock forEVER, he teases and strokes that battered joystick back to life until Skrapper erupts in ecstasy, his groans of pleasure muffled up KV’s ass. Holy hell! Have I used that expression already in this post? Those words come out of my mouth multiple times in just about every Skrapper match I’ve had the pleasure to enjoy.

Passing the torch

And speaking of enjoy, it’s so ironic as to seem like fate that Skrapper and Mitch generated such intoxicating chemistry in their voracious mat battle in Catch Weight 3.  The weight differential is simply  too much for Skrapper to make up, but he makes Mitch pay dearly for absolutely any split second of distraction or loss of focus. No wonder at all that he earns a trip hoisted over Mitch’s stone-carved shoulder once all is said and done, to be fireman-carried poolside and tossed in. Illustrating why Mitch has so long been in the ranks of the elite of my favorites, he quickly dove in after his prey to crush him once more in a wet bearhug that merges seamlessly into a make-out session with Skrapper perched across Mitch’s crotch.

I call next!
It seems hard for most of Skrapper’s opponents to resist the temptation to slide their tongues between those beautiful lips sooner or later.  Skrapper’s one victory, prior to knocking Z-Man out cold and wreaking divine retribution on behalf of all of us who’ve screamed at our computer screens when the coverboy broke character and grinned like a Cheshire cat, was a lightweight battle for the books against  perennial jobber Skip Vance. Seriously now. If Skrapper can make the likes of Brook Stetson work his 240 pound ass off to finally tame the feral beast, 135 pound Skip was doomed from well before the start of their Wrestleshack rendezvous. Gorgeously naked bodies, crushed and battered, seamlessly meld into sweat-soaked, fully aroused paramours. Skip hardly seems to mind Skrapper prying his face to the side with a handful of Skip’s hair in order to lock lips and grind crotches.

I’m sure Mitch will always work me hard, but it’s a lightweight, lanky, skater punk wildcat with an obvious lust to dominate that leaves him so loathe to submit that even the big, big boys have no choice but to knock him out cold and carry him from the mat in order to make him quit, who’s in undisputed possession of the top contender spot in my rankings of homoerotic wrestling pornboys who turn me on. And a little word of advice to Trent Diesel: you’d better get your ass back out on the mat soon, pretty boy, because there’s a feral, lanky unstoppable force of nature with a wildly sexy bass voice and a complete lack of awareness of when to give up who’s ready to plow you into second place… dude!

What’s Been Unsaid

After nearly about a month and a half, I can finally spit out the metallic taste of blood from my mouth! When I made my pilgrimage to BG East in August, I was treated to the privilege of seeing photos from all of the catalog 89 new releases. It was a profound thrill, like being told that I, and I alone, could open all of my Christmas presents a week early. But then I couldn’t talk about it! I couldn’t write about it! I couldn’t obsess on the pages of this blog about each and every tantalizing, confidential morsel from catalog 89 that made my mouth water. I’ve been biting my tongue non-stop since August 5th, and I’m overjoyed that BG East has released catalog 89 for purchase. Let the obsessive reviewing begin (and the healing of my bitten tongue)!!!

I’m just hitting a few highlights for today, because there’s just too much that I’ve had bottled up that I’ve got to say about so many of the new releases. So in addition to nearly making want to cry to see Mitch Colby barefoot in the ring in Florida Fights 3, I’ve been aching to comment on match #1 from that same DVD. Hell and damnation! Kirby Stone can WEAR a pair of skintight shiny pink trunks! That ass has most certainly caught my attention!
Pretty much precisely the same thing has to be said about Cain McDonald in his appearance (taking fall #1!!!) against Mikey Vee. The legs and ass on this grappler make me gasp! That face looks just about too juvenile to feel entirely guilt-free about, but that lower body is 100% guilt-free adult male entertainment.
Next up on the comments burning a whole in my belly: Dev Michaels looks like a fucking monster in the ring against slender, unclassically but undeniably handsome newbie, Lucky Loko. Man alive the two of them make for an astonishingly arousing picture! The fact that Lucky didn’t run screaming from the building on sight of Dev makes him a hot commodity in my book.
And speaking of monsters in the ring (I’ve been DYING to use that line!), has it escaped anyone’s attention that Attila Dynasty appears to be smuggling major meat in his trunks in his scissor fest against Trent Blaze?!!! If the summer Olympics have taught me anything, they’ve taught me that gymnasts are sexy as hell, and the pics of Attila’s acrobatics in the ring have caught me completely off guard. I had no idea from his debut to expect either all that Attila can accomplish without his feet on the ground, or the massive ballast in the pouch of those powder blues (I’m heading back to Backyard Brawls 7 right now for another look).
Next up, it simply must be said that the sight of Z-Man clawing Skrapper’s chest and swinging for the rafters makes me just about ready to pop right here and now. If I know Skrapper, however, Z-Man better not count him out a moment too soon!
And I’ve been anticipating the hating for a while, but I call it like I see it. And as much as the sight of Rio Garza’s body getting worked over (and that face crushed between his opponent’s legs) is like icing on the cake, the pics of Jimmy Gee’s slabs of beef that are his muscled ass has got the be the most delicious main course in this match for me.
I’ve also been aching to say that it’s about time for another installment of Wrestle Worship. I love this concept. I need more of this concept. And newbies Magnus and Surge appear to dish up an extraordinary amount of eroticism with delightful proportions of both wrestling and body worship. Does anyone else wonder if Magnus requires his own zip code? And speaking of numbers, does anyone have Surge’s telephone #!?
Again, I’ve been dying to celebrate the return of ripped, rock hard Tyrell Tomsen. I can’t think of a better opponent to pick apart a bodybuilder adonis than the likes of sexy-assed veteran Patrick Donovan.

And finally, Mr. Joshua, Patrick, barefoot, in the ring, with Patrick’s testicles getting crushed in Mr. J’s fist… You’ll have to excuse me now. I need to rehydrate after writing those words. I’m sure you’ll be hearing much, much more from me about all of this in the future.

What Goes Around

Can-Am’s Pro Sex Fight 4 
Reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month, Rusty Stevens, is no stranger to the pages of this blog. He’s the third most cited wrestler here at neverland, and now that he’s back in the business, I wouldn’t be surprised to see him growl, flex, and dominate his way past my second most frequently cited wrestler, Brad Rochelle. Then again, with the news that Brad isn’t done with his contributions to homoerotic wrestling, it could be a dog fight. Let’s just sit with that image for a moment… Brad, Rusty, in the ring, brutalizing one another for their places in the pantheon of homoerotic wrestling iconography. Holy hell, now that would be a fantasy match that would make my head explode…
Can-Am’s Pro Sex Fight 4
Rusty is nothing if not provocative. At least, he never fails to provoke me. Perhaps the move the provoked me most was Rusty’s announcement that he was retiring from porn. I was instantly somewhere around both the 1st and 3rd stages of grief, desperately denying that Rusty’s retirement could include his work in homoerotic wrestling, and bargaining, pleading for his wrestling prowess to be exempted from his move away from the industry. Rusty went silent for nearly a year. I documented the existential crisis that this provoked within me, as I had to decide what to do when my very long-running favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy walks away with the title still belted around his waist. I felt toyed with, betrayed, angry, sad. So it should come as no wonder that I was profoundly moved yet again when Rusty showed up this summer in Can-Am’s Pro Sex Fight Series. He isn’t in quite the muscle-brute shape he once was, but he has precisely that same snarling, slicing, crushing mouth on him that has made one adonis after another wither. Regular readers here should have experienced no surprise at all to see Rusty crowned homoerotic wrestler of the month a few weeks ago.

Can-Am’s Wrestle Bait

What Rusty does best, and what really provokes me most, hasn’t changed at all over the course of his homoerotic wrestling career. He delivers a cocky, contemptuous, ferocious character with smarts to match his beautiful body. I believe the first sight I had of Rusty was his Can-Am appearance against gorgeous tattooed porn god, David Taylor in Wrestle Bait. Rusty was lean and mean, and though the “prisoners forced to wrestle and fuck at gunpoint” gimmick was a little distracting for me, I already detected that Rusty was a hunk who hated to be dominated nearly as much as he loved dishing out humiliation. If David ever showed up on Naked Kombat (which seems entirely possible) to face Rusty, I’d put a whole lot of money on Rusty crushing David like a grape. In Wrestle Bait, the action was more scripted, and both boys took their turns on top.

Naked Kombat – Rusty Stevens v Tommy Defendi

I think the next notice I took of Rusty was discovering his back-catalog for Naked Kombat. Holy fuck! Rusty was made for Naked Kombat, and vice versa. In fact, every Naked Kombat match I watch now I automatically compare with Rusty’s performances. Arguably the most stunning physical and sexual domination I’ve seen from Rusty was his oil match against doe-eyed Tommy Defendi. This match is not close by any stretch of the imagination (7-58). However, unlike many squashes, Rusty has no problem maintaining intensity, pushing the pace, innovating and ad libbing, and making every single second pure joy for any homoerotic wrestling fan. I still think that his leg scissors choke on Tommy after everything else is said and done, barking at the loser, making Tommy stroke himself almost to climax and then denying the loser the right to cum, over and over, until Tommy is nearly ready to explode from the sound of Rusty’s voice alone… that’s got to be one of the most pristine, purest, unadulterated moments of thrilling wrestling kink I’ve ever seen.

Can-Am’s Arena Part 1

Rusty’s meteoric rise in the rankings of my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboys, however, really dates to his return to Can-Am, sporting his Naked Kombat physical conditioning, in the Arena series. Again there’s this incredible moment that frequently replays in my mind of Rusty having obliterated Brian Bodine in Arena Part 1, leaving the gorgeous hunk ass-up and unconscious in the middle of the mat. Aryx Quinn strolls in and insults Rusty’s handiwork, questioning his manhood, laying down a challenge of wit and skill. What the fuck was Aryx Quinn thinking? With his huge, beautiful cock erect and bobbing up and down as he strolled around Bodine’s unconscious body, Rusty unleashes a trash-talking assault on Aryx that twines together humor, domination, and humiliation in a way that I’ve never seen the likes of since. Aryx tries to keep up, tries to parry and counter. He’s no match, no how, for Rusty’s smart-ass mouth. The two never lay a hand on each other (until Arena 2), and yet that exchange ranks awfully high on my list of most erotic moments in wrestling.

Can-Am’s Arena Part 2
When Rusty and Aryx finally consummate this marriage of trashtalking and wrestling, yet again I give the verbal domination win, unquestionably, to Rusty. Aryx seems to think that’s keeping up, but he’s just not. Honestly, I get the impression that Aryx may be smarter than the average porn star, but trying to trade barbs with Rusty makes him look like a slobbering fool. The wrestling in Arena 2 is highly enjoyable. As is Can-Am’s way, both boys trade riding time. Rusty looks utterly defeated and humiliated with Aryx fucking him hard. But emblematic of Rusty’s homoerotic wrestling skill set in total, Rusty sneaks up from behind and snatches a crushing victory over Aryx from the jaws of defeat, with Rusty’s furious verbal assault always twice as erotically stimulating as his very hot sexual domination. My #1 criticism of the Arena series is the indulgent need for the whole scenario to be framed as a “Can-Am conquers BG East” backstory. It’s as if Can-Am was taking the opportunity of hiring the likes of Aryx (and Rio and Jobe and Cameron and…), all around that same time, to co-opt BG East fans. For me, that’s never going to fly. The two companies offer entirely different twists to my homoerotic wrestling kink, and every BG East boy that Can-Am touches seems to me to deliver a decidedly Can-Am performance for the west coasters. That’s fine, as far as I’m concerned. But I’ve never found anyone else turning my wrestling kink crank in the manner that BG East does, regardless of the performers involved.

BG East’s The Breaking Point: Sexiest

Ironically, after I went on my original rant calling foul on Can-Am’s attempt to co-opt BG East fans along with BG East wrestlers, BG East turned around and delivered my fondest fantasy. Never would I have imagined it as even a possibility, but just at the moment when Rusty was my #1 favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy and Mitch Colby (the prior #1) was running a close #2, BG East released the two of them in a sweat-soaked mat match in Florida. I hardly need to point out that Mitch (who is by far the most cited wrestler in the pages of this blog), will perpetually own favorite-emeritus status, and I was ready to witness Mitch deliver a wrestling performance that would decisively snatch the title away from Rusty. And it’s damn, damn close! The gallons of sweat make that match hard for me to watch more than about 2 minutes of at a time. Rusty is in the most attractive physical conditioning of his career (for my tastes… I know that others will disagree on that point). But it’s that mouth of his, as always, that made me confirm that Rusty remained at the top of the heap. Mitch took the match victory by jacking off Rusty in the end, but it was Rusty’s mouth that owned my homoerotic wrestling lust. “I’m thinking you may want to say you give… but then again my ass in your face.”

The Once and Future King?

So Rusty’s back. He sounds like he’s been smoking a lot, as he coughs and sputters in his suffering in the Pro Sex Fights (5 features Rusty against Michael Vineland, already available in Can-Am Max). He’s not as hard or big as he’s been in the past. And the stories seem to be built around the concept that the “returning veteran” needs to get schooled by the young new breed of homoerotic wrestling pornboys at Can-Am. He tops and bottoms (as is Can-Am’s way), and he strokes and gets stroked in the midst of entertaining pro-ring wrestling (which is a formula that I wholeheartedly endorse). But there’s no mistaking it. This is Rusty: beautiful, nasty, cocky, selling every second, and trash talking in a league all his own. Keep it coming, Rusty! Mitch may be ripe to get knocked out of the contender spot for my current favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy!

Bard’s Pilgrim Way – Post Script


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My time at the BG East compound will go down as my favorite afternoon playing hooky from work… ever. I enjoyed several hours hanging out with Kid Leopard and the boys who came and went.  In fact, I heard more than I’m allowed to tell you about. I was sworn to secrecy about much of what I heard, and when I promise Kid Leopard, Kid Vicious, and Jonny Firestorm that I won’t talk, damn well better believe my lips are sealed (though it might be worth it to be punished by any/all of them!).
If these guys swore you to secrecy, what would you do?
However, there are a couple of scoops that I was expressly given permission to divulge. One scoop is already out of the bag, really. The next catalog is just about ready to be released. Since there are already some preview pics up in the Arena for two DVDs, this won’t be earth shattering news for many. I did have an opportunity to look at preview photos for all of the matches for the upcoming catalog, and all I can say (under pain of a three-way beating), is that it’s an incredibly hot line up!
One of my perennial favorites Mitch Colby climbs back in the ring,
pitting muscle against muscle in soon-to-be released Florida Fights 3.
Muscle beast Dev Michaels digs deep in his ring debut
against long-haired rookie, lightweight Lucky(!?) Loko – BG East Catch Weight 4.
The second scoop I was expressly given permission to divulge is perhaps more satisfying: we’ve not seen the last of Brad Rochelle! Yes, I was promised that the saga of Brad Rochelle’s “Contract” with BG East has continued to unfold on camera, and we will see what has become of the babyface-turned-heel in due time.  I got no hints as to how things shook out for Brad. No idea if he’s made peace and joined the pantheon of BG East’s undisputed bad boys, or if the Boss managed to give Brad just enough rope to finally hang himself with it. But Brad’s fans can get their hearts a-pumpin’ with the assurance that they’ll see and hear more from the jobber-turned-heel hunk who so many of us have followed with a singular, fanatical passion for the past 18 years!
We haven’t seen the last of Brad!