Tag: Phillip Aubrey

Happy Memorial Day

wrestlebardLeave a comment

I don’t have much connection to the military.  My grandfather was in the occupation forces in Japan following WWII, but other than that, I don’t think I actually know anyone with first-hand experience in the military (which is sort of amazing, really).  Other than learning a lot of dumb ass racial stereotypes that I’ve had to deprogram from after listening to my grandfather’s non-combat exploits in Japan, everything I really know about the military comes from homoerotic wrestling.

Army vet and Guy Pearce look-alike Steve Sherman

For example, BG East’s Paradise 4 taught me that army boys look like way beefed up versions of Guy Pearce, with the roundest, hottest, muscled bubble butts in the world.

This I learned from Steve Sherman flexing and pumping his hips and letting his “manager-for-the-night” (hey, I still want that job!), coat him in baby oil everywhere.

Champion of the marines, muscleman Wade Cutler

Paradise 4 also taught me that marines are, arguably, a fraction hotter than Guy Pearce look-alike army boys, with gargantuan pecs and shoulders, though perhaps not quite as juice an ass.  Wade Cutler’s buzz cut, square jaw and insanely sexy strut-n-smirk made me entirely rethink my preconceptions about marines.

Army lifts Marines and takes a long gander at that ass.

Paradise 4 further taught me that there are inter-branch rivalries between branches of the American armed forces that must be tested and tried in the only reasonable fashion: a thong-bikini oil wrestling match in front of a live audience at a gay club.

Army mounts and controls the muscle Marine.
I learned that although marine boys may look more intimidating, deliriously fuckable Guy Pearce look-alike army boys can frequently neutralize Wade Cutler’s massive muscles and put the gorgeous marine on his back…

Army in total control, publicly humiliating Marine muscles.

… and on his front, allowing Steve to humiliate the musclebound marine in front of an audience of delighted fans.

Army v Marines?  Army bumps, grinds and physically dominates!
Finally, Paradise 4 taught me that given 3 rounds of loosely refereed, excessively lubricated mat wrestling between an army boy and a musclebound marine, Steve Sherman will completely make Wade Cutler his bitch!  I would never have guessed it, but I’ve seen it for myself… many times over… such that my old VHS tape is getting worn out and threatening to break.  There’s a strip-ring rematch between these two on Hard Pros 3 that I haven’t seen, but the photos look like mouthwatering Wade Cutler’s attempt to redeem the Marines goes down in yet another humiliating, sleepered-out cold blaze of bare naked glory.
Proud Army vet Aryx Quinn
Many years later, former homoerotic wrestler of the month and interviewee here at neverland accepted the torch from fellow army vet Steve Sherman and showed up to test the fraternal rivalry once more against marine Marco Guerra in Military Muscle.  Aryx demonstrates that despite my earlier over-generalization, all army boys do not look like beefed up versions of Guy Pearce.  Some of them look like a much sexier and less religio-nutball version of Stephen Baldwin.  “Let me explain something to you, slowly, because you’re a marine,” Aryx explained to his muscled opponent.  “At BG East, the army runs the show!”
“At BG East, the army runs the show!” 
Honestly, Marco represents for the marines more competitively than Wade did.  Aryx has got a tiger by the tail as the two demonstrate what clearly is a rule: Army v Marines battles must involve strip wrestling.  The action is nastier than Steve Sherman’s 2-time beating up of Marine muscleman Wade, but again, it appears that a foundational truth is that when nuts and bare-asses are on the line, Army makes the Marines their bitches.
Boot Camp Drill Sergeant Travis teaches new recruit Tommy Cruze how it’s done.
Can-Am’s Boot Camp introduced me to exactly the tactics and techniques required to turn a blond, blue-eyed boy fresh off the farm into a lean, mean fighting machine for the red-white-and-blue.  Drill Sergeant T begins by teaching young Tommy Cruze military hand-to-hand combat. 
Military training covers all possible contingencies, including naked combat.
When your drill sergeant looks like Travis and your recruit like Tommy Cruze, perhaps it should come as no surprise that the extremely thorough fight education our soldiers undergo includes how to handle yourself when forcibly ripped and stripped out of your fatigues.  Again, obviously 1:1 military combat always gets naked.
Outranked.
I also learned why they call them “Drill Sargeants.”
Recruit Brodie handles recruit Derek Cruz in Military Locker Room

Can-Am’s Military Locker Room reinforced a few of the lessons I already learned.  For example, military training always involves rip ‘n’ strip wrestling between hardbodied hunks.

Brodie and Derek stay combat-ready.

Military Locker Room also taught me that the necessary finale to a hot and steamy soldierboy beatdown is a side-by-side jack-off session in the showers.

BG East’s Corporal John Daniels

BG East’s Corporal John Daniels’ Hunkbash 8 appearance taught me how soldier boys fare when faced with civilian thugs like notorious BG East heel, Dave Christian.  Apparently, when it’s not a military v military battle, the trunks stay on (damn it).

The people reject martial law.
And I was shocked to discover that when faced with overwhelming firepower, Corporal John crumbles like blue cheese, transforming from a commandingly barking superior into a writhing, wallowing, physically and psychologically crushed mass of gorgeous meat.  To summarize, when it’s army v marines, army wins.  When it’s army v army, rank wins.  When it’s military v civilian heel, civilian heel beats the living shit of the soldierboy.
John Magnum brings superior firepower pointed directly at civilian Philip Aubrey
But wait.  Then there’s the counter-evidence offered by Naked Kombat, pitting 6-years of military hand-to-hand combat training of aptly named John Magnum against astonishingly lean, granola munching competitive yoga pornboy Philip Aubrey.  Perhaps Magnum just outranked Corporal John Daniels, but whatever the reason, this is definitely not a hunkbash romp of crumbling military might.
John Magnum aims his artillery toward enemy lines.
It’s also not a runaway victory for marital law, either, as Magnum and Aubrey are surprisingly evenly matched throughout their NK mat match.  Magnum’s far superior fire power, however, may be the edge that Corporal Daniels just didn’t have in his civilian humiliation, because Magnum narrowly tames the hippy pornboy in the end.
Taming the civilian loser in the end.
And, it turns out, when the soldierboy comes out victorious over the civilian, all of that pent up boot camp hazing and humiliation comes pouring out all over the hippy loser.  Further lesson for me, when a soldier capitalizes on his military combat training to edge out a civilian pornboy, there will be a cock-tucked pony ride and lingering, groaning oral and anal.

I am one of the last people you’ll see draping myself in an American flag.  I spend more time shaking my head at the squandering of our beautiful combat-trained hotties in blatantly unnecessary deployments around the world than I do pledging allegiance to the flag.  But even I will admit that there is a necessary and proper role of a well-maintained military in establishing peace and security.  For those who’ve done just that, I offer my respect this Memorial Day.  And for those who’ve turned that military conditioning and training into over the top homoerotic wrestling art, I offer my enthusiastic and wholehearted gratitude.

Down for the Count

wrestlebard6 Comments

I received this email last night:

Kink is sad to announce that we have stopped production of Naked Kombat for the time being. There will be no new updates to the site for the foreseeable future. This was a difficult decision and we would like to extend a warm “Thank You” to all of our members and fans.

Truth be told, I haven’t been enjoying Naked Kombat as much as I used to. I know I’m not alone among the wrestling kink crowd in my waning interest in the pornboy-does-erotic-combat format.  For me, it may have been the relentless structure of NK that quickly became formulaic (which is a major criticism I have of porn in general). After a while it felt like each release was the same product, just with different bodies cycling through. It could have been the wrestlers. The pornboy stars lately have not been giving me the instant arousal that NK boys in the past have. My waning attention for NK could certainly have had to do with the kombat itself. Occasionally there were seriously enthusiastic and skilled grapplers hitting the NK mat, but too often the kombatants came across more as pornboys tussling as foreplay for the way they really make their money: the sex round.

Rookie Gavin Waters thinks he’s got my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy’s number.
Calm, cool, collected Trent Diesel knows better.

The factors explaining my waning interest probably have absolutely nothing to do with Kink’s decision to terminate production of NK.  But I’m still feeling a little grief over the loss of the company that has brought me several of my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboys. Trent Diesel, my reigning homoerotic wrestling pornboy, may be in serious danger of losing his grip on the title unless another company picks up his most entertaining talents (please!).

Ripped Trent Diesel teaches cocky Gavin Waters the price of losing at Naked Kombat.

One of the aspects of NK that I’ve definitely enjoyed is their particular blend of wrestling and homoeroticism. The grapplers were always explicitly rewarded for bringing the sexy into the confrontation. They received points for cock abuse, force-feeding, ass slapping, etc. And then in the sex round, the victor’s task was to take possession of the loser and heap humiliation in any way possible (though imaginations were often wanting in round 4, in my opinion). Spanking, the pony ride, the rat tail… a relatively narrow repertoire of humiliation was sprinkled in amid the otherwise straightforward sucking and fucking.

Rusty is master at exploiting all 4 rounds to their maximum wrestling kink potential.

Arguably, no one exploited the format more entertainingly than Rusty Stevens, which also contributed to his very long tenure as my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy. His leg choke while controlling Tommy Defendi’s every self-stimulating move like a sadistic puppeteer, was probably the most arousing and innovative sex round device I ever saw in NK.

Tommy Defendi is defenseless against the crushing tide of Rusty’s offense.

I believe Rusty was undefeated in NK competition, which is the way it should be, in my opinion. Left to his own devices, Rusty was a force of nature, beating away his opponent’s defenses like the rising tide itself, until one by one they fell and Rusty climbed on top. Elsewhere, Rusty has been more scripted, less spontaneous, which has simply not exploited the raw, animal, aggressive sexuality of this gorgeous pornboy.

Nikko Alexander mistakenly thinks he’s got it all wrapped up against lean DJ and his monster cock.

NK also gave me considerable pleasure in watching the character (and physical) development of NK scrapper, DJ. Setting aside the relatively racist undertones of his opponent’s trash talking, referencing his tightly kinky hair, most of the time DJ worked his own magic and won retribution for any pre-match slights by conquering one hard, bigger man after another through sheer force of will and ever increasing proficiency on the mat.

DJ is single-handely unstoppable against Cameron Adams & Leo Forte (combined!)!

That truly stunning monster cock of DJ’s didn’t hurt any either (except when ever inch of it was slammed up a loser’s ass). DJ grew on me over time. With every new match he got stronger, faster, and more technically skilled. His victory rounds got hotter and hotter, and there’s just about nothing as awe-inspiring as his performance teaming up with partner Trent against Cameron Adams and Leo Forte.

DJ and Trent Diesel illustrate teamwork at it’s very, very best!

The twosome of Trent and DJ are a striking pair to gaze at, but even their opponents agree in the end that DJ is a fucking unstoppable beast in this match. He’s the smallest man on the mat, and frequently he successfully dominates both opponents single-handedly during the grace periods when Leo or Cameron tagged in and had an opportunity to double team him. Double team my ass! DJ is like a cornered badger, more vicious, tenacious, and dangerous against two opponents than he is against just one.

Epic clash between muscle hunk John Magnum and lithe scrapper, Phillip Aubrey

As the life of NK flashes before my eyes, it occurs to me that there have been plenty of moments of homoerotic wrestling epiphany. John Magnum and Phillip Aubrey’s nail biter comes to mind. Magnum’s only appearance on NK was epic. He’s made for full-on gay pro wrestling if ever a pornboy was. He’s magnum sized, and even sexier, he’s absolutely giddy with delight in every moment that he manages to subdue and humiliate Phillip. He laughs proudly at his own mastery. He flings himself across the mat and into every hold. He trash talks from start to finish.

Phillip Aubrey restrains momentarily restrains the beast.

And even then, Phillip Aubrey was equally satisfying, perhaps more so because I expected myself to be so enthralled with the big muscle boy Magnum. Phillip is astonishingly sexy on the mat. He bends like Gumby, and he seems to have a tolerance for pain that’s simply off the charts. He seriously, seriously dominated his much bigger and stronger opponent a whole lot, and indeed, I personally think he clearly ought to have been the decisive winner. Even that drama, the disputed call of the judges, makes the Magnum/Aubrey match fucking hot, hot, hot!

Spencer Reed obliterates John Stone in March 2009

There’ve been other NK matches and pornboy wrestlers of note, of course. Big, dominating Spencer Reed, sincere as hell Patrick Rouge, muscle ass babyface Dean Tucker, the terminator Tyler Saint…. the list is extensive. However, most of the names that I come up with as epitomizing my affection for NK come from deep, deep in the archives. Speaking of, I don’t know what happens to the NK archives. I’m not going to keep paying for a subscription to a site with nothing new, and I figure they’ll have to roll the archives into some other aspect of the kink.com universe, which other than NK simply hasn’t appealed to what it is that turns me on: wrestling.

Gavin Waters’ first introduction to Naked Kombat and Trent Diesel’s picture perfect cock.

Despite my ambivalence about the recent run of NK, I’m still sad to see them go down. For the years of homoerotic pornboy wrestling entertainment, the blood, sweat and tears (especially the sweat), and the many innovations in wrestling kink, I thank you, Naked Kombat. To the producers, technical staff, and especially the beautiful pornboys putting their bodies on the mat and their asses on the line week after week, you will be missed.

Trent Diesel oils up with Ryan Rockford

Now, I know of some stunning pornboys all oiled up with no place to wrestle. Surely, someone can help these boys out.

Asses Named

wrestlebardLeave a comment
No one posted a perfect score for this week’s installment of Name That Ass. I’m still looking for teacher’s pet. Keep studying, gentlemen. Adoring homoerotic wrestling asses requires intense, exhaustive study. Don’t be discouraged if you didn’t do well. I grade on a curve, and preparing for the next quiz should be it’s own reward. In the meantime, here are the answers to the quiz:
Ass #1 belongs to:

 BG East’s Tyrell Tomsen.
Stunning size and gorgeous proportions, when Tyrell is naked and soaked in sweat in the wrestling ring, he can strike one of the most lustworthy still life’s on record. As pictured, Tyrell was playing dominating bully to opponent Braden Charron for Strip Stakes 1. It was Tyrell’s Summer Sizzler against Bobby Horton that convinced me that Bobby deserved the title of homoerotic wrestler of the month last summer.  Tyrell has definitely been out-wrestled in his brief tenure with BG East, but he’s never been out-muscled or out-classed when it comes to his picturesque physique.
Ass #2 belongs to:
BG East’s Kid Karisma.
Kid K has captured me in his gravitational pull lately, and I’ve found myself circling back to marvel at his performances over and over again. His ass, in particular, is simply astonishingly beautiful. This particular shot is from his face off with Rocco in Gear Wars 1. I’ll gush soon about his Wet ‘n Wild appearance with Christian Taylor, but in the mean time, marvel a little longer at those glutes…

Did ass #3 pose a challenge? It belongs to none other than…
Can-Am’s pornboy extraordinaire, Mark Wolff.
Blake Onassis would have also earned you full marks for this one, since he’s cross listed under both names. This particularly fun shot is of Mark getting his face smashed into the lockers by Billy Herrington (also AKA’s Billy Marcus) for Lords of the Lockerroom. He was always a pornboy musclegod, with an ass for days and nipples the size of half dollars. Frankly, it wasn’t really Mark’s wrestling that ever sold me, but I’d buy some full contact moving pictures of that body anyday.
I imagined ass #4 might have given some students trouble. It belongs to…
Naked Kombat’s John Magnum.

I’m positive that I’ve seen Magnum wrestling somewhere else, but for the life of me, I can’t remember where. He blew my socks off (pants, too!), when I saw him in his one and only (to date) appearance at Naked Kombat in a nail-biter against Phillip Aubrey. Phillip nearly took the big muscle brute in this match. If there was ever a tie, in the gestalt sense, these two boys were perfectly, evenly matched, despite having distinctly different styles and builds. John’s personality, though, is absolutely kink-stastic. He’s 110% present. He delights in every second of domination, and he struggles to free himself from absolutely ever nano-second under Phillip’s control. He’s a beautiful man, and although I haven’t had an opportunity to enjoy much more wrestling from him, I get a little contact high off of his tweets now and then.

I didn’t hear from any advanced players who correctly identified the monster muscle glutes of ass #5 as belonging to…
Thunder’s Arena’s Coupe.

I’ve marveled before that Coupe is a muscle freak. That does not always equate to homoerotic gold, but just like his trunks in his poolside back-and-forth with Cameron Mathews, Coupe is indeed homoerotic wrestling kink gold in my book. If ever there was a body that absolutely required comment, even awe from his opponents, it’s Coupe’s. But that’s not really what Thunder’s does, sadly. It’s much more frat house romp than full on homoerotic body worship. I haven’t seen him at Thunder’s in a while, but I’ll just put it out there here and now, if ever Coupe is looking for some homo muscle worship to make up for all the neglect the boys at Thunder’s have made him suffer, I’m first in line with the baby oil.

So how did you do? I put more weight in progress over time than any individual quiz grade, so I hope that you’re finding that you’re performance is improving as you take more Name That Ass quizzes. Don’t be discouraged if you didn’t do as well as you’d hoped. We both know that you love the subject matter, so devoting yourself with renewed enthusiasm to your studies should be no burden at all.

Nowhere to Run

wrestlebardLeave a comment
Speaking of full on grab-ass, Phillip Aubrey is back at it over at Naked Kombat, facing off with doe-in-the-headlights, baby (baby, baby, baby) faced Matthew Singer. For those of you who aren’t into a squash (and I know you’re out there), this will likely NOT be for you. This is just about as much of a squash as I’ve seen on NK. It’s not like it isn’t obvious how this will play out, even as Matthew gives his pre-match testimonial with a little quiver in his voice. He’s not only in over his head, he’s 20,000 leagues under and wearing cement shoes.
Phillip is one of the NK repeaters that clearly, authentically has some combat training. He has amazing balance and body awareness. He’s irrepressible. He absolutely bubbles up with delight in dominating and humiliating. And dangling wide-eyed Matthew in front of him is almost too much for even me, a certified fan of a delightful squash, to watch. Phillip literally and figuratively spanks Matthew’s skinny ass all over the mat in round after round. The ref reports that after three rounds, Matthew managed to just barely break into double digits on the scorecard (Phillip had around 40 or 50, but I’m guaranteeing you that they just stopped counting at that point). I think they were ridiculously generous in pumping up Matthew to even that low score. He brought absolutely nothing to this match, other than a sweet gasp of painful resignation and a sense of bitter futility about him.
Phillip, on the other hand, has been building momentum since he just barely lost to John Magnum by the skin of his teeth in his debut. If he could nearly take down the mountain of muscle that is John Magnum, Matthew Singer was fated for a painful lesson.
While the technical side of the competition/performance will leave many disappointed, those of us who do harbor some joys in watching a babyface obliteration have much to fascinate us here. Matthew has no place to go, no way to escape, and watching Phillip chuckle with delight in wrapping him up, bending him backward, sitting on his face, and paralyzing the kid with what must be hands of magic stroking at Matthew’s cock… it’s made to order for fans of an authentic squash. And don’t doubt it: Matthew works hard. He’s sweating like a marathon runner halfway through round one. He is NOT just jobbing. He’s just getting smacked down hard with every gambit he tries to throw.
Finally, I’d just like to say once again that I’m a fan of the pony ride. It seems a little too obligatory at times in NK… perhaps a bit too scripted and canned. But watching Phillip ride Matthew (forcing him to bray like a donkey along the way) does something to me that makes me smile. No one rides the pony quite like my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy, Rusty Stevens, of course. But having seen Phillip have to pack around the mat the behemoth of John Magnum (weighted down significantly by that massive cock of his), there’s a pretty sweet through-story to watching Phillip exact the same humiliation with such aroused delight on the practicing dummy who is baby (baby, baby, baby) faced Matthew Singer.

Value Added

wrestlebard2 Comments


Several recent comments here have sent me thinking more deeply about what it is that a wrestling kinkster gets in explicitly homoerotic wrestling that he doesn’t in basic cable pro. “The gay” has had a longstanding presence in straight-up pro wrestling for… well, forever, hasn’t it? The classic flaming pro-wrestler with his feather boa, dancing on the balls of his feet, have been a not-so latent element in the scene for at least as long as pro wrestling has been televised, it seems to me. I made a break with regularly following straight-up pro scenes about a decade ago, but when I’m flipping through the channels, I get the impression that “the gay” continues to creep more and more into that scene. Hasn’t there been and openly gay wrestler or two? Isn’t the erotic sub-text getting more and more main-text, as the modern audience is catching on to what so many of us have understood for a long time… that two hardbodied, barely clothed hunks grinding and squeezing their bodies together can’t help but be about sexual prowess, if not outright sex.


But I’m so far out of the straight-up pro loop, I’ll have to rely on those many of you who keep up with it to correct me. Feel free, in fact. I’m blindly wandering into a subject that I know, at most, only 50% about: what is it that we gay wrestling kinksters get in our homoerotic wrestling that we don’t get in straight-up basic cable pro? (Indie fanatics can tell me if this applies to that scene as well)…. In no particular order:
Tear-away crotch gear. And for that matter, full-on centering of the gorgeous male erection. If these elements were popping up in straight-up pro, it would seriously make me consider diving back into that scene. As it is, I’m thinking that, despite a diversity of gear and gear-related stories in straight-up pro, the tear-away crotch and the aroused cock are entirely in the domain of the homoerotic side of wrestling. Please, tell me I’m wrong.
Hand-to-bare-crotch ball abuse. Before I washed my hands of straight-up pro entirely, crotch abuse was on the rise. But as far as I know (and you will correct me), wrestlers actually stuffing their hands down each other’s trunks and clawing each other’s balls for all it’s worth (or even better, entirely naked, prolonged cock and ball bashing), marks a dividing line between wrestling packaged for us as opposed to wrestling packaged for them.
Passionate, full on, tongues-down-throats kissing. I can remember at least a couple of instances where a straight-up pro story used a man-on-man kiss as the excuse for violence (not hard to read the homosexual panic storyline here), but never as the mutual climax of the physical competition. Hard fought, sweaty, pounding, tooth-and-nail wrestling should lead to some intense respect and mutual gratification, I think. If the buff bigboys on basic cable occasionally lost themselves in passion at the end of a particularly close fought match, again, I’d absolutely have to tune back in.
Naked bearhugs. Well, naked everything, really. So we’ve been led to believe that the ancient Greeks battled it out this way, but as far as I know, other than the occasional bare-ass moment (treated as a moment of ego-crushing humiliation), the straight-up pros keep their gear on their bodies. A bearhug or a boston crab or a head scissors may be technically identical between the two genres, but the innovation of losing the gear first completely retranslates everything into a language I’m much more fluent in, and whose tones I find much more pleasing.
Oil wrestling. Especially naked oil wrestling, but seriously, any kind of oil wrestling seems like it’s this side of the neutral zone between straight-up pro and full-on homoerotic wrestling. Lubricating bodies can’t help but make everything more arousing, both in the action and on this side of my television screen. I suspect I could be on thin ice on this one, and I’ll be very pleased to be corrected to learn that the straight-up pros are breaking out the babyoil for one another… but I’m doubtful.
Toe-sucking. Okay, I can’t remember seeing this in a wrestling match before my current favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy, Rusty Stevens, pulled it out as a defensive move against Mitch Colby this summer. So it isn’t exactly a staple of homoerotic wrestling. But somehow, I can’t see this innovation showing up in prime-time. Both genres have overlapping standard toolkits for distraction and diversion in a match, but I, for one, am really pleased when I see some erotic worship as a strategic move.
The naked pony ride. Or, really, the loser-gets-used scenario in general, involving any element of nakedness. The pony ride itself seems to be a signature primarily at Naked Kombat, though I’d love to see this gimmick show-up elsewhere. Somehow, I could imagine seeing it cross-pollinate through other homoerotic wrestling companies about a century before it would show up in straight-up pro… though Joe at Ringside at Skull Island continues to feature some fantastic indie boys I’d pay good money to see ride or get ridden… naked, of course.
The jack-off. Either post-match or, as Aryx Quinn illustrates here with Braden Charron (and KL on Chris from yesterday’s post), locked in a classic wrestling move, a forced to cum show of domination/voyeurism/humiliation. This falls under the same theme as the any-straight-up-pro hold that turns naked idea, but add to that some masturbation, and, well, this just isn’t going to show up on basic cable anytime soon… or a pay-per-view extravaganza… or, well, anywhere other than the homoerotic specialists.
Oral. The spoils of victory never tasted so sweet on any, any, any straight-up pro match as it does when a homoerotic wrestler lays his loser out and sucks his cock like there’s no tomorrow. Depending on the angle, the loser-gets-forced-to-suck story (see every Naked Kombat match, for example), also works only on this side of the line. Just as an aside, I’m more a fan of the taste of victory than I am of the loser-gets-face-fucked plot. Ironically, there’s something almost “straight” feeling about the latter to me…
Anal. Most of the same comments apply here. This just isn’t going to show up for the straight-up pro boys, though how sweet would that be to see some of those fine, muscle-asses on the line and plowed in the center of the ring when they lose? But that’s precisely what leads me (and many of us, I’m sure) to homoerotic wrestling products. Straight-up pro only takes us so far. Our imaginations can complete the scene, but there’s something awfully satisfying and, in some ways, validating about seeing the scenario play out exactly the way you and I would imagine. I don’t think that a match needs to end in a forced-fuck to be homoerotic, by any means. In fact, I get a little tired when it seems to be obligatory, and I get the impression that the creativity and competition of a wrestling match sometimes turn into clock-punching routine as the boys go through the familiar motions. But a victory fuck closes the circuit in my mind. From the anticipation, promise, and implications of straight-up pro, homoerotic wrestling fills in the silences and opens up the possibilities that turn me on like no baggy-shorts prime-timer has ever done.

I know I’ve missed a lot. I’m sure I’ve overstated my case… because that’s just what happens when I have a whole blog to myself to rant and ramble. But seriously… sincerely… I’ll be pleased no end to hear what I’ve managed to get completely wrong here.