Tag: Patrick Donovan

What’s Been Unsaid

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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.

Hot or Not?!

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Wicked Gay Blog posted last week a new topic in their “Hot or Not?” series: wrestling.

There are four votes so far in the comments of the post. Three votes for “yes,” and one voter argues that the sweat and aggression and public nature of competitive wrestling are decidedly not hot. I figure that there are a lot of neverland readers who would have very decisive votes to cast.

I’ve often thought about the relationship between being gay and being fanatical about the eroticism of wrestling. For many of us in this little corner of the internet, it would be a bizarrely obvious question, whether wrestling is hot or not. I’ve heard from many of you who think of your sexual orientation primarily defined by wrestling more than being gay, in fact. So where do wrestling fetishists stand in relation to other gay guys who could even conceive of asking a question like “is wrestling hot or not?”

Boy Culture, which is not all about wrestling by any means, responds to the Wicked Gay question with an answer that many of us can get behind: “Are any wrestlers – real wrestlers – unsexy? I haven’t seen any yet.” The fact that there are obviously plenty of gay men who aren’t primarily oriented toward wrestling eroticism but who do, nevertheless, enthusiastically get turned on by wrestling, makes me suspect that we’re more mainstreamed than even we realize. You and I, who find homoerotic wrestling as a/the primary turn-on, may simply represent one end of the spectrum. While there are clearly those for whom it is a legitimate debate as to whether wrestling is hot, there are also clearly a whole lot of gay guys who recognize that wrestling is sexy as hell, even if they don’t turn to wrestling as their primary source of arousal to the extent that many of us do.

Patrick Donovan and Tyrell Tomsen illustrate beyond a shadow
of a doubt just how hot wrestling can be in
BG East’s upcoming Wrestler Spotlight: Patrick Donovan

And then there are the typical readers of this blog, whose erotic fantasies revolve around wrestling almost entirely. I think what may be called for is less debate regarding what is or isn’t hot, in some definitive way that seems to presuppose that there is a singular answer to the question. The question itself appears to me to be a form of social control, contriving and reifying the bounds of normative gay sexuality and tastes. Perhaps a better approach is to ask, what turns you on about wrestling? Sure, there will still be the voices who answer, “nothing,” but I think we can become much more sex-positive, gay-positive, body-positive people if we spend more time appreciating the infinitely complex distribution of erotic tastes and turn-ons, rather than try to carve the world into two pieces: the yes votes and the no votes. It may be entirely true that you and I reside in one of the tails of the so-called normal curve when it comes to our affinity for the eroticism of wrestling. We may be relatively rare in the degree or enthusiasm of our erotic focus on wrestling. But then again, there’s nothing impressive about being average. There’s nothing morally superior about hovering around the mean.

New topic. Being in the majority: Hot or Not?

Bard’s Pilgrim Way – Journey’s End (Part 2)

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A prominent piece in the BG East collection of wrestling art and memorabilia.
My pilgrimage to the BG East compound was nothing if not a spiritual experience! Having toured the grounds and been awed at the sight of the outdoor settings in which some of my favorite homoerotic wrestling inspiration has been taped, the Boss led me back inside to continue the tour.
I was conscious of a sudden spike in my arousal. I’d never thought about it before, but there’s something about the interior BG East matches that stroke my wrestling kink more powerfully than just about anything else. Downstairs, we walked past the home gym that I’ve seen many times before in the prelude to so many BG East matches. No one was working out that day, but in that library of homoerotic wrestling I treasure in my mind’s eye, I could see golden boy Troy Baker at the pec deck, muscle bruiser Jed Jamison doing bicep curls, bilingual Chris Bruce pumping out incline presses.
Alexi Adamov talks trash as Christopher Bruce pumps iron in
BG East’s Mat Hunks 8
When Kid Leopard led me into the matroom, I experienced another spike in my homoerotic wrestling arousal. I’ve enjoyed watching so much powerfully sexy wrestling inside those 4 grey walls. It struck me that it’s a bigger space than it seems on camera. Even still, picturing two sweaty wrestlers throwing each other around with a cameraman trying to stay out of the way (while capturing the perfect angle on the action), made me appreciate both the artistry and mechanical expertise of the BG East mat matches that much more. It was just a few weeks ago I was renewing my arousing fascination with Skrapper, watching his rude awakening  at the hands (and legs and lips) of AJ Lyle for Undagear 17 on those very same black mats. I was fascinated staring at the wall just to the right of the door, where rookie Randy Stanton momentarily clawed Joshua Goodman’s pecs (that’s Mr. Joshua Goodman’s pecs to you!), until the pendulously hung muscle stud screamed.
Rookie Randy Stanton makes Mr. Joshua scream in the
mat room for BG East’s Matmen 21
It was the journey upstairs, however, that made my heart beat the fastest. Climbing the spiral staircase (you’ve seen it), we reached the door to what felt to me like the holy of holies: the BG East pro wrestling ring.

Rock hard Brad Rochelle uses every inch of the BG East ring
to humiliate jobber Patrick Donovan in BG East’s Wrestlefest 2
I was stunned by how familiar it was! The wrestling memorabilia all over the walls, the ringside mirror, the iconic wrestling ring tucked tightly into the corner. So much of my homoerotic wrestling inspiration set in this space made visions literally appear in front of my eyes… of sweat-soaked Brad Rochelle squeezing lean Patrick Donovan’s head between his rock hard thighs while the jobber suffered helplessly tied in the ropes… of towering Mitch Colby in a Mexican Ceiling Hold, suspended so gorgeously and vulnerably in the air by ripped heel Cole Cassidy… and merciless Kid Leopard himself, standing there right next to me, but simultaneously there inside the ring with his arm locked across Wade Cutler’s throat as the stripped muscle hunk obediently jerked off for KL’s pleasure.
“The Professor Winthrop Fitzgerald Arena
James McCartin, Builder 1993
Kid Leopard, Proprietor”
The Boss pointed out the plaque on the outside of the ring post facing the door. I’ve seen the ring a thousand times (at least), but never noticed the plaque before: The Professor Winthrop Fitzgerald Arena.  “Professor Winthrop Fitzgerald designed the ring. He also appeared…” I finished the sentence at the same time the Boss did, “… in Live at Campus!” The professor was Scott Rogers’ “manager and mentor,” appearing as his corner man in Roger’s unsuccessful title match against Kid Leopard himself. The Boss told me that the professor once hosted gatherings of wrestlers at his own Florida compound.

A recent addition to the extensive wrestling art collection in
the ring room and throughout the BG East compound
The Boss pointed some more choice, up close details of the ring room. The extensive collection of wrestling art throughout the entire BG East compound includes some wonderful works ringside. He pointed out the cabinet in the corner that we almost never see, with notebooks full of details on BG East wrestlers, including their signature moves and training goals. There was the clock on the wall, a piece of wrestling memorabilia itself, which didn’t actually work any longer, which resulted in many a wrestling session going longer than anticipated as everyone lost track of time.

Pro wrestling collectibles lining the walls of the BG East ring room
I was standing at the altar of my homoerotic wrestling kink, an awed pilgrim soaking it in. I associate the BG East wrestling ring with some of my most ecstatic, intimate, private moments, so to be standing there in the light of day next to Kid Leopard himself left me feeling almost raw.  I’d traveled a long way from home to find myself journeying deep within myself, treasuring that library of homoerotic wrestling inspiration that emerged from this very spot.

Desert Island Discs

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True story: I just recently had to pack for several weeks away from home. I’m traveling for work, and packing is tight. I’ll have my laptop with me, and therefore access to watching DVDs. Here’s the task I gave myself, though: with limited space, I allotted myself exactly 3 homoerotic wrestling DVDs to bring with me. With that provocative task that I set for myself, the question became, which 3, out of my pretty impressive collection (if I do say so myself), should I bring?
Here’s what I came up with to keep me entertained for the next month or so (in addition to what I can snag online):
My first choice was Wrestlefest 2. It’s classic, old school BG East, with a live audience of fellow wrestlers cheering ringside and a strong smell of sweat, testosterone and camaraderie in the air (I’m on the record aching for more of all of that!). Having a young, stunningly hard, tanned rookie version of Brad Rochelle opening a can of nasty whoop ass on then-jobber Patrick Donovan can put me over the edge over and over, particularly once he’s got Patrick tied in the ropes.

I also love Chip Slater’s wrestling stylings (and that gorgeously handsome jaw!), and his humiliation and demolition of Jeff Jordan and his lucious pecs in Wrestlefest 2, with the hunks ringside cheering and whooping, is smokin’ hot! To be clear, Wrestlefest 2 isn’t precisely my favorite homoerotic wrestling DVD in my collection. But for this trip, with what’s yanking my crank at this moment, it was my top pick to pack.
My 2nd choice took me a little while to settle on. It likely comes as no surprise that I’d be packing a bit of Mitch Colby in my bag, but which Mitch masterpiece? I settled on Mitch-cubed, with Mitch’s Wrestler Spotlight DVD. His mat match against Patrick Donovan (yes, with extremely tight space, I’ve managed to squeeze in a double shot of Patrick!) is quite possibly my favorite Mitch-match of all time, but that’s hard to pin down because nothing Mitch does ever disappoints. But I’m absolutely enthralled with the give and take between Mitch and Patrick, the closely contested wrestling and tests of strength and tenacity, the gallons of sweat pouring off their gorgeous bodies, and a bearhug contest that I just about cannot make it all the way through without a very satisfying explosion.
When Mitch brings back amorous admirer Marc Rion (hey, what ever happened to that tasty one-hit-wonder?) for the 3rd match in this collection, it’s admittedly a little light on the wrestling but delightfully heavy on body worship. There are frequently times when some passionate body worship will get my heart pounding nearly as ferociously as an over-the-knee backbreaker. And worshipping Mitch is a very fond fantasy of mine. Definitely, Mitch’s Wrestler Spotlight is undoubtedly going to come in very handy over the next several weeks away from home.

When it came time to settle on my 3rd and final choice, I was feeling a lot of pressure. Saying yes to any one thing would mean saying no to everything else in my collection. Will I want old school? New school? Heavy on the erotic? Heavy on the ring wrestling? In the end, I settled on the classic Hunkbash 2 to round out my desert island discs. As with all my choices, the fact that there are many favorite wrestlers and matches on the same disc played heavily into my decision to stow Hunkbash 2 in my carry-on. First and foremost, I don’t believe I’ve ever sat down to watch a Wade Cutler match that didn’t end with me coated in sweat and toweling off. But place muscle hunk Wade into the expert hands of heel extraordinaire and BG East Boss himself, Kid Leopard, and the climactic match of Hunkbash 2 qualifies for one of the hottest, most satisfying homoerotic wrestling matches I’ve ever seen. Wade is in prime physical condition, wearing iconic stars and stripes trunks (for a while, at least), and suffering in complete shock at being manhandled and sexually dominated by a smaller, less muscular opponent. Classic tale. Iconic wrestlers. Never-fail entertainment to satisfy in the coming weeks.

But there really isn’t a match in Hunkbash 2 that fails to offer quality goods to tweak my kink from one angle or another. Blond babyface Barry Longshaw getting stomped into the mat by an incredibly young Kid Vicious with a full head of hair is simply awesome. Psycho Capone opening up his nasty brand of insanity all over big, beautiful muscle boy Terry Reed is over the top hot (something about that match totally sucks me into really pitying Terry… seriously beautiful salesmanship, obviously). But I think my second most favorite match from Hunkbash 2 is pro-heel Bryan unleashing a stunningly hot mauling all over the beeee-autiful and timelessly muscled body of Dante Rosetti. From start to finish, I love every twist and turn in Dante’s bashing, but when Bryan looks like he nearly shoves his boot up Dante’s tasty muscled ass as the tanned Italian is trapped and spread-eagled in the corner ring ropes, I am seriously moved.
Like I said, these don’t necessarily reflect my favorite discs of all time. But I chose them to offer me a smattering of several motifs, tastes, and genres to satisfy me through a variety of potential moods over the coming weeks. I can already guarantee that at some point I’ll kick myself because I’m particularly in the mood for some other gem from my library. Just not having access to the rest of my collection will likely heighten my obsession for something I won’t have in hand. But I feel pretty solid on these three discs to get me through several weeks of what could be astonishingly dry, boring work. And of course, there are online matches that I’ll have at my fingertips as well…
What 3 discs would you have packed?

A Fan Favorite

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Yesterday I celebrated Brook Stetson, co-owner of my homoerotic wrestler of the month title. Today, at the risk of repeating myself, I turn to Brook’s partner in crime, the other co-owner of my homoerotic wrestler of the month title, Mitch Colby.

Mitch was a running feature obsession in this blog almost from the beginning. When he debuted for BG East in Alexi Adamov’s Wrestler Spotlight tape, I was instantly a fanatic. Drop dead gorgeous, strong as an ox, and glistening with sweat, there’s nothing that I don’t like about Mitch’s physique. But it was always something more, something unexpected that Mitch brought to the table that has made me never be able to take my eyes off of him when he wrestles.

It’s his maturity, by which I do not mean some asinine euphemism for his age. True, he showed up on the scene a decade or two later than some of the youngest bucks that vie for our attention in the homoerotic wrestling world, but frankly that’s neither here nor there for me. Mitch possesses a chilled calmness, an unflappability, a stone cold centeredness that reflects a mature soul. I mean, let’s face it, it’s hard to out-pretty Alexi Adamov. But Mitch is every ounce as gorgeous, as far as I’m concerned, and he’s a good bit sexier because he seems to understand exactly who he is at every moment, no matter what the trash talk and mind games his opponents toss his way. The way Mitch puts Alexi in his place and leaves him flat on his back in the gazebo is all sorts of pleasing.

I won’t try to give a comprehensive blow by blow of Mitch’s career because, let’s face it, that’s been an ongoing labor of love throughout the nearly two years of this blog. Rather, let me note the highlights that taught me something new about the big, beautiful Mitch. For example, after a hard, sweaty gazebo battle with pretty boy Alexi, things turned down right nasty for him when he climbed into the wrestling ring against one of BG East’s resident bad boys, ripped stud Cole Cassidy, in Ringwars 15. Sadly, this is Mitch’s only appearance to-date in the ring. Perhaps the seriously vicious beating he took at Cole’s expert hands (and particularly the torture Mitch’s pecs took in Cole’s claws) left Mitch with PTSD for ring action. Mitch works some nice offense in on the little powerhouse, but when it comes to decimating and displaying a big, hard hunk, there’s arguably no one better than Cole. Happily, Mitch proves that he can suffer and take a beating like that hard, ripped body of his would imply.

Mitch’s first motel match was notable for me, particularly, because he squared off with Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!) in Motel Madness 7. Yes, the reigning top contender for my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy went toe-to-toe with the reigning top contender for my favorite homoerotic wrestler – nonpornboy division. Mitch’s physique is simply perfect in this match, and I don’t blame him a bit for allowing Mr. J to maneuver him into position to shove that massively packed crotch of his into Mitch’s face.

My next stop on Mitch’s memory lane is another motel match, in which Mitch showed what he would do if BG East dangled a little bit of fluff in his face, by which I mean twink delight, Jeremy Burk, in Motel Madness 8. This is classic big v little wrestling, and I’m on the record repeatedly as partial to that scenario. What makes this match hit my list of must mentions about Mitch are two things, really. 1) This is a fantastically erotic match that’s expertly paced. Some squashes are downright boring, but there’s nothing at all boring about Mitch’s systematic pummeling of Jeremy. It gets hotter, more painful, more humiliating, and sexier with every passing moment. And 2) this was my first peek at Mitch naked. After crushing Jeremy, Mitch takes his little piece of fluff to the bathroom where they peel out of their gear and explore one another’s bodies in and out of the shower. My fetishistic lust to scrub Mitch down from head to toe with a thick, slick coat of lathered soap probably belongs on a different fetish blog, but suffice it to say, I’m bitterly envious of Jeremy.

Back to the Florida sunroom, and my next notable highlight of Mitch in action is his sweat-fest with Skrapper in Catchweight 3. Seems that Mitch has a taste for the lightweights, and despite putting up some serious offense, Skrapper was always destined to be schoolboy pinned with Mitch’s sweaty crotch shoved in his face. What stands out from this match, however, is the post-match pool play. Mitch fireman-carries his twink out of the sunroom (with Skrapper slyly copping a feel of Mitch’s glutes along the way… I tell you, that Skrapper impresses me!), and then tosses the spent punk into the pool. One last bearhug in the middle of the pool turns from a device for inflicting pain into a passionate embrace, as they make out enthusiastically. Many, many more homoerotic wrestling matches should end this way.

The same Florida sunroom is the setting for a true epiphany in Mitch’s resume. He takes matters firmly in hand against Derek da Silva in Crotch Crushers 1, tapping into his sadist side to beat, pound, claw and, indeed, crush Derek’s testicles. In addition to being the first time I saw Mitch really grab hold of his opponent’s manhood, it’s also memorable because it was right around this release that Derek stole the title as my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy from Mitch for a brief time. The contrast of short, pale and hairy muscleboy v tall, tanned, and smooth muscleboy is aesthetically stunning.

It was the release of Mitch’s Wrestler Spotlight tape that helped Mitch rip his inaugural title belt away from Derek and slap the hairy Italian into second place. Most specifically, it was Mitch’s matroom sweat fest with Patrick Donovan that turned my affections decisively back to Mitch. This match is profoundly arousing from start to finish, but it’s the bearhug competition right in the middle that makes my heart pump hardest. Patrick and Mitch are in the same league when it comes to almost everything… height, weight, good looks, fit physiques, wrestling skill, and maturity. So it’s that much more climactic when Mitch once and for all puts the veteran down, climbs on top, and locks lips with the loser.

A few months after Mitch regained his title as my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy, he lost it in stunningly fast fashion against the wickedly nasty stylings of Rusty Stevens. From the realm of Naked Kombat and Can-Am, Rusty managed to grab my attention and hold on with both hands. Mitch slid into the top contender spot behind Rusty’s razor sharp trash talking and primal determination to dominate his opponents. So when BG East, just a few months later, released the Breaking Point: Sexiest, in which Rusty and Mitch have it out in the Florida sunroom, I was in awe. This was my fantasy come to life. I mean, most homoerotic wrestling is in one way or another my fantasies played out for me, but this was quite specifically and particularly my fantasy of pornboy v pornboy wrestling. While Mitch came out on top (at the same moment Rusty was cumming from the underneath), I had to say decisively that it was Rusty who aroused me most in this match, primarily on what is undeniably his #1 strength: his witty trash talk and delight in dishing out humiliation. It was a battle for the ages, but Mitch was relegated to stick it out in second place in my rankings.

And then last month, BG East released Mitch’s most recent match for Sunshine Shooters 4, which earned him the homoerotic wrestler of the month co-title. Mitch is also currently in possession of the top contender spot for my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy yet again, chomping at Trent Diesel’s gorgeous ass to take the title for the third time. Regardless, however, Mitch will always be a favorite, and wherever he is at any particular moment in the rankings of my favorites, I will always be a Mitch fanatic.

Backseat Driving

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Yesterday I was full of myself sufficiently to presume to offer advice to the hardworking, creative minds at Rock Hard Wrestling. I’m such a backseat driver. Worse, I’m the first to admit that I’ve never in my life produced a homoerotic wrestling video, so I’m sure I can’t imagine the challenges of working with athletes, sets, lights, cameras, gear… Producers of homoerotic wrestling are always free to slap me upside the head and chew me out for second guessing them all the time.
Dane Tarsen v Leo Lessard – BG East’s Britbouts 2
One thing I recommended to RHW yesterday was that even without explicitly sexing it up, they’d probably speak even more provocatively to the gay wrestling kink crowd with some of the bread ‘n’ butter devices that signal a wrestling match is at the very least implicitly homoerotic, and not just latently. For example, some nipple torture seems to me to be a tried and true move that directly links dominating pain and homoerotic pleasure.
Chip Slater v Jeff Jordan – BG East’s Wrestlefest 2
Take Chip Slater and Jeff Jordan from BG East’s Wrestlefest 2 (I love that entire collection!). Chip is a notorious sadist who, I believe, never failed to crank on his opponent’s balls with awesome viciousness. Perhaps it was when Jeff had the temerity to grind Chip’s nose against his pec in a face-rearranging side headlock that Chip couldn’t help but notice the beautiful target of Jeff’s nipples. Sure enough, climbing on top and twisting until the hunk screamed, Chip latched onto Jeff’s nipple like a clothespin.
Shane McCall, who was in the audience for Wrestlefest 2, must have been taking notes. When Shane had a go at Jeff a while later for X-Fights 23, he seemed to be taking a long, hard look at Jeff’s sweaty pecs and shiny nips as Shane reveled in the sight of his domination in the mirror in front of him. Did Shane have a flashback to Chip’s assault on those very same big nipples?
Shane McCall v Jeff Jordan – BG East’s X-Fights 23

Whether or not it was an echo of Chip, Shane inevitably slapped Jeff to his back, immobilized the hunk’s right arm behind his neck and trapping Jeff’s left arm underneath Shane’s body. With Jeff’s big, round pecs completely vulnerable and open, Shane grabbed hold and cranked on the dial with gusto.

The pain contorting Jeff’s face juxtaposed with the wide eyed, enraptured joy on Shane’s face as he watches the fruits of his labors is absolutely smokin’ hot.

Dick the Prick v Patrick Donovan – BG East’s Ringwars 4

When Patrick Donovan faced Dick the Prick in Ringwars 4, you had to expect Patrick’s broad, sexy pecs and gorgeous nipples to be in the sights of the Prick. Pretty much everyone had a go at squeezing every ounce of suffering from Patrick around that point in his career. Tall, handsome, lanky but with aesthetically compelling muscle tone, Patrick was on the menu over and over again.

Which made it all the sweeter when Patrick laced those mile long legs around the Prick’s abdomen and trapped Dick’a arms over his head, in order to have an unobstructed angle to pinch the punk’s right nipple. You can just see the look of fierce concentration forming as Patrick begins to go to town. There were a lot more blunt forms of abuse that Patrick could have employed at that very point, but his choice to twist the Prick’s nips so methodically signals to me that this is far from being simply about beating his opponent. This is about the delivery of pain for both physical and sexual domination.

Bud Orton v Mark Nelson – BG East’s Wrestleshack 4

There was nothing but sexual domination that ever seemed to be on Bud Orton’s mind. Bud seemed to have a look about him as if he was perpetually moments away from an orgasm. Sweat soaked and aroused in Wrestleshack 4, he looks absolutely ravenous as his gaze fixes on Mark Nelson’s pecs.

Trapping Mark’s wrists behind his back, sure enough, Bud proceeds to torture his opponent’s nipple with his teeth. Of course, anything done with a wrestler’s mouth is going to be that much more homoerotic than if it were done with any other part of the body. RHW may want to pay it straighter than that, but the theory stays the same: some focused attention on nipples signals this is homoeroticism and not just latent sexuality disguised as macho aggression.

Rusty Stevens v Mitch Colby – BG East’s The Breaking Point

Examples are everywhere, of course. One of my favorite examples to illustrate pretty much anything is Rusty Stevens‘ clash of the titans with Mitch Colby in The Breaking Point. Rusty puts on a cocky, “I’m impervious” face to start any competition, but the display of his gorgeous body above seems to center his left nipple like a target.

And, indeed, Mitch takes aim and scores with a love/hate maneuver of simultaneous nipple twisting and kissing.

Kid Leopard v Rusty Behr – BG East’s Punishment 1

On and on, nipple torture has a long and storied role in the homoeroticism of homoerotic wrestling. So RHW (or any other wrestling company, for that matter) is welcome to tell me to go fuck myself for backseat driving. I’d totally understand. And yet, still, I must persist. Give me a little stronger dose of the homoerotic in my wrestling if you aim to really satisfy.

Contending with Joe

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Joe at Ringside at Skull Island is very, very keen on BG East’s new release, Ringwars 19. Since I possess a preferential regard for both ring wrestling and Joe’s opinions, Ringwars 19 is instantly on my to-own list. Joe’s description of an early-career Alexi Adamov hanging from a rafter with his long, gorgeous thighs clamped around the head of Naughty Nick Naughton is sufficient to convince me that Ringwars is my kind of wrestling kink.
But now that the new releases are available for the masses to order, I’m feeling the need to contradict Joe. Perhaps less a contradiction than a contention, I’m feeling that if you own no other new release to emerge in 2011, you’ll want it to be Sunshine Shooters 4. Joe argues that all-time need-to-own would be Ringwars 19. It’s not that I doubt Joe’s tastes in the least. But I jumped on the Sunshine Shooters 4 wagon at the earliest possible moment, and was blown away. This release includes three matches that hold my attention and turn me on, non-stop. Most newsworthy for most, though, will be the fact that cover boy, Playboy model, and internet softcore it-boy, Z-Man Zack Vasquez, has dipped his foot in the deep end of the pool that is BG East wrestling.
I’ve had a love/hate (or at least a lust/antipathy) relationship with Z-Man for some time. Ever since I first saw him ham it up against Alexander years ago for Thunder’s Arena, I was both captivated by the Z-Man’s incredible physique and aggravated by his salesmanship. Following his progress with Thunder’s and in the early crop of matches with Rock Hard Wrestling, I’ve been adamantly proscribing a stern, merciless lesson in being introduced to actual pain in order wipe that irrepressible, smarmy, “this-is-all-play-acting” smirk off his truly beautiful face. I’ll marvel more about the details in a future post, but for now, let me just bow down to the perfectly tuned stylings of veteran Patrick Donovan who delivers exactly what the doctor ordered. 
Frankly, I suspected that bringing along the Z-Man could be a bit of a gamble for BG East. In my estimation, BG East’s strength is in their high quality, all-in wrestling, so a half-assed, smirking performance by even a Playboy model could be an embarrassing ding on BG East’s fine reputation. But the Boss rolled the dice and damn, did it pay off! The pacing and action here make me gasp. The wrestling is completely engaging and astonishingly hot. Patrick seriously beats on Z-Man with his fists in a way that totally satisfies me. The audible thumps followed quickly by Z-Man’s reflexive grunts are just about as stellar as the sight of the Z-Man’s gorgeous pecs and eight-pack abs turning bright red from the relentless assault. Z-Man (and Patrick, for that matter) has never looked more tasty, more toned, or in skimpier wrestling gear. Z-Man-addicts, and I know there are many of you, will find this bout simply fantastic. 
Next up, there’s Cole Cassidy and Tony Vencini working up a sheen of sweat that continually makes me press “pause.” Cole never disappoints me. This is my first Tony match, and he’s one big, solid brute of a battler. Their grappling is astonishingly high quality, with incredibly intense and relentless pacing that tires me out just watching it (for many reasons). But again, just like my assessment of Patrick and the Z-Man, I have to say that having adored Cole’s body many, many times before, he’s simply never looked more stunning, shiny, hard, and ripped to shreds, working incredibly hard against an accomplished and bigger boy. Another truly entertaining match.
Seriously, I’d pay money (but probably couldn’t afford) for Cole to slide my head between his devastating thighs and squeeze, and I’d tip him a whole lot extra to let me me reach up and squeeze those meaty pecs of his at the same time.
But as I mentioned a couple of days ago, I’m totally smitten with the amazing match-up of beefy bruiser Brook Stetson going muscle to muscle against my inaugural favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy and regular fixture in my fondest wrestling fantasies, Mitch Colby. Like all the shoots in this collection, these boys (okay, I like the term boys, but in this case, I simply have to call these studs men), these men are working their asses off. Just as importantly, they work their singlets off and are both quickly coated in each other’s sweat. Something happens inside me though, when Brook hog ties Mitch’s wrists behind his back using Mitch’s own jock strap as bindings. Mitch’s beautiful ass is wedgied high and hard, and for the first time in this entire match, Mitch’s endless tenacity simply can’t keep him fighting against the overpowering behemoth. Brook is understated, but unmistakably pleased with his handiwork as he slides Mitch face-first high between his oak-tree thighs for an astonishing face-to-crotch, hands literally tied behind Mitch’s back, head scissor submission. Holy fuck.
That “something” that happens to me, by the way, is the completely out-of-the-blue return of Mitch to the top rankings of my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboys. It was a brief tenure that DJ enjoyed as the top contender for the title, and I wouldn’t count DJ out of the running for long with the way he’s been tearing through the competition at Naked Kombat as of late, but Sunshine Shooters 4 unquestionably bears witness to a shocking assault from behind, in which Mitch manages to gorilla press DJ’s lightweight, ripped to shreds body over head, leave him hanging and gasping in shock and terror for an eternity, before tossing DJ right out of the ring, leaving Mitch the undisputed top contender staring down my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy, Trent Diesel.
Perhaps I might think differently once I get a chance to enjoy Ringwars 19. Perhaps you might think differently with both products in hand and well-scrutinized. But I’ve just got to say, I suspect for many of us, if there’s no other new release we buy in 2011, we’d simply have to own Sunshine Shooters 4.

Playing to the Audience

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Kid Leopard v Matt Carlton – BGE  Live in San Francisco

Today’s BG East Arena update features several galleries from the vintage Live at San Francisco collection of matches. In addition to reminding me that I need to get a copy of these live audience matches featuring some of the early lions, it also reminds me that I really like homoerotic wrestling in front of an audience.

Brooklyn Bodywrecker v Scott Rogers & Matt Carlton – BGE Live in San Francisco

A reader recently chatted with me about the concept of gay wrestling in front of an audience. We both agreed that the concept really moves us. I’m not entirely certain what all the moving parts are that multiply the eroticism of homoerotic wrestling with a live audience, but I have to believe it has to do with the shared intimacy of watching arousing, hardbodied athletes playing to a mutual kink.

Reed/DJ v Rouge/Tucker – Naked Kombat – December 23, 2009

Naked Kombat taped three incredibly hot matches in front of an audience before calling that venue quits. Their boys always got hurt when they wrestled in front of a crowd of cheering fans. Did the kombatants experience an extra rush of adrenaline when the boys in the stand roared with delight at each homoerotic hold? Did they find themselves trying a little too hard, pumped a little too much, with a jeering, cheering, hungry audience egging them on like the crowd that inevitably forms around schoolyard scraps? Maybe that’s part of the equation of what turns me on, as well. There’s an extra dose of adrenaline with an audience watching. There’s not only the fantastically intimate relationship hammered out between the wrestlers, but also the relationship between the wrestlers and the audience. Like a threesome, it adds something exotic and extra intense to an already erotically charged moment.

Reed/DJ v Rouge/Tucker – Naked Kombat – December 23, 2009

My recent introduction to the illustrated storybooks Sexfights at the BG Arena captures this ménage à trois sentiment quite nicely. The story of one night in an explicitly gay, live audience, ring wrestling arena, suggests that the wrestling studs fighting to cum out on top experience a synergistic, orgasmic psychic connection with the audience, carried across the sound waves of the audience’s shouts of encouragement, instruction or derision. The wrestlers, financially rewarded on a sliding scale based on how hardcore the victory sex gets, find themselves nudged further in brutality and passion as a result of the boys in the chairs, aroused and enthralled at the live, homoerotic, 110% wrestling kink action occurring just a few feet in front of them.

Chuck Tiger Collins v Fallen Angel – BGE Live on Campus

So perhaps a Sexfights at BG Arena scenario might have trouble finding an insurance carrier (which I assume was the real nail in the coffin of Naked Kombat’s live audience matches). And perhaps as homoerotic wrestling has become more established, there’s less opportunity for the ragged spontaneity of a Wrestlefest, for example.

Brad Rochelle v Patrick Donovan – BGE Wrestlefest 2

But I’ll keep a candle burning for the hope to someday buy my ticket for a ringside seat to watch the kink infused melodrama of homoerotic wrestling played out close enough for me to smell the sweat. Surely the seats would be packed for an opening bout with, say, my favorite homoerotic wrestler – non-pornboy division – Lon Dumont swagger out and climb commandingly through the ropes to work his bodybeautiful, indypro-informed magic on – how about – BGE veteran delight, Patrick Donovan. Patrick would be rewarded by those of us in the seats for copping some gratuitous feels of LD’s gorgeous pecs, but LD would surely pound his amorous opponent into a sweaty, exhausted, defenseless pulp, earning even more awed adoration from us in the crowd. Match 2, I’m thinking, should be a little kinkier. Let’s say Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!), eager to show up LD, climbs into the ring next, against Grapple 101 emcee, Ashley Ryder. Ashley lets us in the seats know that if he conquers my top contender for the title of my favorite homoerotic wrestler – non-pornboy division – he’ll give us all what we’ve been swooning for for more than a decade: an unobstructed view of Mr. Joshua’s stripped cock and balls. Hell, the crowd would turn on Mr. J in a flash, wouldn’t we!? Our blood would pump faster with each small advantage that Ashley managed to claim over Mr. J. When Ashley found himself bullied and slammed by his opponent, we’d roar in protest, desperate for our fresh-faced champion to deliver the goods he cockily promised. Knowing Ashley, sooner or later, boots would be stripped and the tension would rise over his fetish for claiming his opponent’s socks. And, let’s face it, Mr. J would likely capitalize on Ashley’s single-minded devotion to his gimmick, beating the Britboy’s face into the turnbuckle, tying him in the ropes and battering him with every appendage, before choking him out in the center of the ring as we catcalled, watching our hopes to see Mr. J’s goods fade with Ashley’s consciousness. But as full of himself as Mr. J is, he isn’t immune to the adrenaline rush of the roaring crowd. We’d chant, “take it off, take it off, take if off,” making the adonis pause as he’s stepping through the ropes to make his exit. “Take if off, take it off, take it off,” we’d chant like devotees of our druid god, weaving a spell so powerful that Mr. J, in his lust to be worshipped, couldn’t refuse. He’d tease us. He’d start to strip, and then wag his finger at us, plucking our pumping heartstrings like a harpist. Take it off, take it off, take it off… we’d keep whispering, breathlessly, desperately, until his eyes closed in rapture at the sound of our worship, and as if with a mind of their own, his hands peeled his skin tight trunks down his long, muscled legs. He’d grab his balls in his right hand and his cock in his left, giving them a habitual tug, before lacing his fingers behind his head and flexing his eight-pack directly over top of Ashley’s prone body, soaking in the impassioned shouts and grunts of our climactic adoration.

Dennis the Menace v Jay Austin – BGE – Paradise 2

Holy crap! I got completely lost there in my own fantasy of a BG live audience event, now didn’t I? Surely there’s got be at least another two or three more matches on the card, but I’ll save the rest of that fantasy for another day. For now, let me just say again that I think there’s an awesome chemistry to live audience wrestling, as evidenced by straight-up mainstream pro wrestling profits, that would only be that much more appealing in undisguised homoerotic fare. My candle is lit for a return of live audience action to gay wrestling, and me with my ticket to a front row seat.

A True Romantic

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I’m not into Valentines Day, really. Too much compulsory heterosexuality in the air. It’s NOT that I’m not a romantic. It’s just that I can’t take red heart chocolate boxes and red roses seriously (well, I’m always a sucker for receiving flowers… just something other than red roses, please).

The Enforcer v Blueboy – BG East – Masked Mayhem 4
Even more than the compulsive heterosexuality, there’s something intentionally fictive about Valentines Day that irks me. No one’s relationship, even the most melba toast straight couple, looks like the gooey, saccharine, “you complete me” idea promoted in commercials and greeting cards. There’s something passionless and sterile about the whole production that swings the whole constructed reality of romance toward enmeshment and abstraction and away from physicality. Sure, the morning news shows mentioned men giving lingerie to women as evidence of the link between sex and Valentines Day. But if I were to hazard a guess, I’d say that there’s likely a decrease in the amount of sex happening today, directly attributable to the chocolates-and-roses sentimentality of it all.

Kid Karisma v Len Harder – BG East – Sexy Showdown 5: Florida Fun

Now, if there were a Valentines Day card that said something like, “Show me that you really care: Wrestle me to the ground, pound me into submission, and then shove your tongue down my throat,” well, then perhaps I’d think that this contrived “holiday” has something for me.

Dean Tucker v Drake Jaden – Naked Kombat – 7/22/09

If there were an FTD card that I could send with the orchids that said something like, “First to cum gets ridden like a pony,” that might enhance the romance of the day for me.

Landon Mycles v Michael Vineland – Can-Am – Pro Sex Fight 1

If a date promised me that, for dessert, he’d treat me to an over-the-knee backbreaker, then just maybe I might associate Valentines Day with some sexual passion.

Mitch Colby v Patrick Donovan – BG East – Wrestler Spotlight – Mitch Colby

A jock strap, buckets of sweat, and a schoolboy pin lip lock are a so much more to the point than chocolates and lace and plastic-wrapped shrubbery. I hope today has something truly romantic and passionate in store for all of us, which will have absolutely nothing to do with Hallmark, FTD, or Godiva. It’s not that I’m not looking for romance. I just don’t think it comes to any of us tied up with a bow with the sales receipt in our pockets.

In the Ropes

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These days, I’m getting worked over pretty hard. I’m working my ass off, just managing to stay on my feet. And, wouldn’t you know it, just when I find myself backed into the ropes, some nasty heel villain uses those very same ropes to work me over that much harder.
KV v Ken Mason (assisted by KL) – Tag Team Torture 1
Metaphorically, this makes my day-to-day life these days suck. On the other hand, literally, when someone uses the ring ropes to take advantage of an already battered hunk, that does not suck (at least not for the heel or for me, watching). Turning the set into an integral prop to tell the story is, in fact, a major turn on for me, further explaining my particular preference for ring action.
Brigham Bell v Patrick Donovan – Hunkbash 5
Sliced to hell and mean as a king cobra, Brigham Bell pretty much always used the ropes, and most of the time he took full advantage by not only capturing his hunks in the ropes, but then head scissoring them at the same time. Illustrated so delightfully in his ring action with Patrick Donovan, ultra-lean, muscled bodies put on artistic display is the icing on the cake. The cake itself, of course, is the completely gratuitous humiliation of an already suffering hunk. To capture 6’1″ pec-tacular Patrick so defenselessly, so vulnerably, and then to squeeze Patrick’s handsome face humiliatingly between Brigham’s tightly corded thighs… talk about the climax of a story!
Brad Rochelle v Patrick Donovan – Wrestlefest 2
Patrick, Patrick, Patrick… early in his BG East career, Patrick frequently occupied the restraints of the ring ropes. He just suffered so sweetly! It’s no wonder that opponent after opponent reveled in beating him down and then tying him up to not only soak up more punishment, to also have his ego crushed as decisively as his hot, long, gorgeous body. On his way to being awarded Rookie of the Year in Wrestlefest 2 (I vote for more Wrestlefests!), Brad Rochelle slapped Patrick into what I think, objectively speaking, is the hottest bit of ring rope torture ever captured on camera. Hunk-on-hunk, stunning body on stunning body, handsome face squaring off against handsome face, and Brad taking a foreshadowing turn to the dark side to lock Patrick’s throat between the bottom to ropes and then boston crag his legs, sitting his fine (fine, fine, fine, fine) ass down across Patrick’s shoulders to choke him that much more. 

Brad Rochelle v Dom the Dominator – Demolition 3

Brad, Brad, Brad… of course, any regular reader of this blog is already fully immersed in the drama of Brad Rochelle’s BGE career, as his fratboy face and go-go boy muscles went through years of jobbing, suffering like perhaps none other, not infrequently himself trapped in the very same ropes with which he’d humiliated Patrick and won rookie of the year. Dom’s boot in his ass and his back cranked backward over the top rope, Brad’s rope-suffering illustrates what is the tastiest pay off of all with rope work: the stunning body of a hunk displayed so fully and vulnerably.

Rio Garza v Donnie Drake v “Trevor” Mathews – Pro Bashed Triple Threat
I noticed in recent pics from Can-Am’s new (upcoming?) release, Pro Bashed Triple Threat, that Rio Garza is on the receiving end of some tasty hunk rope punishment at the hands of Donnie Drake. This is, perhaps, the best representation of my own subjective experience at the moment. Clearly outmuscled and at the mercy of a nasty, big, brick house bastard, like Rio under the control of Donnie Drake, I’m getting pried backward and pounded on with nothing to do but take it and look pretty (I can pull that off, too).
As I whine, just a bit, about my own woes (I can sell suffering when it’s my turn), I find some comfort in the sight of some beautiful hunks getting tied up and beat down with the assistance of the ropes. Well, okay, so perhaps “comfort” isn’t the word. But it does, somehow, make the nasty heels in my own life a little more tolerable when I spend a little time admiring the aesthetics and erotics of homoerotic wrestling heels taking the picture frame itself and choking the daylights out of the stunning portrait of a musclehunk in the middle.