Beating the Odds

There are varying opinions about mismatched opponents in homoerotic wrestling.  I get the argument that the intoxicating heat of the competitive premise can suffer when there is, or appears to be, little chance of an outmatched wrestler holding his own, much less taking possession of his opponent’s.  Not infrequently, however, I have a sweet tooth for an apparent mismatch, for the tale of the tape that suggests there is no spread big enough to make this worth a bookie’s time.  Just that first glimpse of some plucky hunk staring down (more often up) extremely long odds can grab my attention with both hands.
Brian Baker stares down his nose at goldenboy Austin Cooper 

The long-odds wrestling match jumped front and center in my attention recently when I clicked through to the preview of my reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month, 5’9″, 170 pound Austin Cooper, trying not to have to strain his neck to look up at the stunningly handsome face of his young rookie opponent, Brian Baker (different one), who towers over him at 6’4″ at weighing in at an athletically lean 205 pounds.  I’m downloading this promise at this very moment, inspired largely by the promise of seeing what Coop can do with the rook’s seriously lovely ass and long, tattooed torso.  The online match description telegraphs (or, rather, painstakingly details) that not only does Coop tame the towering stud, but he humiliates Brian in a two-fall squash despite the 7 inches of height and 35 pounds of weight advantage the rookie comes in with.  Please tell me Coop draws out the schooling just as long as his lovely pupil’s body is!

Drake Wild has his hands full taming massive muscle beast Tyler St. James

In the way the universe does sometimes, I was fresh off of getting all breathless over Coop and Brian Baker when I stumbled across more tantalizing preview pics of Can-Am’s first catch-weight version of a Pro Sex Fight. reports that the sweet, hot punk Drake Wild is 5’5″ and 140 pounds, which explains why he looks absolutely dwarfed by Tyler St. James, who reports is 6’2″ and 240 pounds of insanely thick muscle.  That’s 7 inches and, I kid you not, a reported 100 pound difference, which is instantly translated into a sweaty brow and gasps of lust to see controlling the big man handily.   Fuck, that’s hot!

Gorgeous giant Paladin makes even notorious heel Jonny’s eyes grow wide.

Apparently there’s something in the water these days, because BG East’s latest catalog also boasts one of those inspiring apparent mismatches with the 5’5″ and 160 pound version of Jonny Firestorm, staring up at the chart topping beauty of 6’6″ and 210 pound Paladin in the 3 Stages of Jonny.  The online match description explains that Jonny’s been sent on a mission to cut the 6 and half foot giant down to size, but even Jonny and those magical forearms can’t prevent the man 50 pounds and over a foot taller from taking the first fall.  It’s never a good idea to count out Jonny, or his forearms, prematurely, and yet again another “little guy” beats the odds, and his massive opponent, to a pulp.

Every ounce of Cybertron’s 65 pound weight advantage threatens to break babyface Ronny Pearl in half

And then there’s the case of 5’8″, 185 pound Ronny Pearl, who I mentioned so adoringly yesterday, encountering 6’2″ and 250 pound wrecking ball Cybertron in Ringwars 21.  Compared to the previous 3 mismatches, Ronny’s “only” staring down a half a foot height difference (and, yeah, a 65 pound weight disadvantage).  Nevertheless, Cybertron demonstrates what “odds” are all about, capitalizing on every inch and ounce of superiority to crush the flowing-haired rookie with more brutality than I’ve seen in a match in a long time!

Big Sexy isn’t about to let even two opponent’s kick his fine, fine, FINE ass!

And if we’re counting numbers and assessing odds, Thunders Arena has posted a couple of new matches recently the devolve into 2-on-1 double-teams.  In Rough and Ready 33, peroxide punk Izzy was due to star in one of those totally outmatched features, though how much smaller he is than 6′, 205 pound Big Sexy is a mystery because he’s not listed yet in their roster (which seems ominous for his future).  Regardless, 5’8″, 156 pound Python apparently steps in to help little Izzy out, wrapping those superman arms around Big Sexy’s throat and turning the tide.  However, this is Big Sexy we’re talking about.  Worse for the double-team, it’s Big Sexy bigger, sweatier, and more beautiful than ever, demonstrating that it’ll take a lot more than 2-on-1 for the likes of these boys to ever best the likes of Big Sexy.

Butt-to-butt-to-butt, Tak and Coop work over Braden Charron’s luscious muscles.

On the flip side, you’ve got twink of my dreams, Tak, getting more than he bargained for when he tries to work his twink-dominator magic on the bulging muscles of body beautiful Braden Charron in Rough and Ready 34.  Braden is reportedly only 5’8″ and 155 pounds (really!? with that ass and those pecs, that astonishes me), whereas Tak is 5″10 and about the same weight, but even at the outset this looks like a mismatch for lean fratboy Tak.  When things go decidedly not his way, fellow goldenboy Frey (aka, homoerotic wrestler of the month Austin Cooper) steps in to go butt-to-butt with his buddy Tak in delivering a lick-lippingly sexy double-team dose of humiliation on the bubble-butted beauty Braden.  Braden stared down the odds stacked against him (and on top of him, and all around him) and learned the hard way that they’re “odds” for  a reason.

Coop’s got the towering rookie right where he wants him.

Mismatches, long odds, David and Goliath… sometimes the little guys surprise us.  Sometimes they don’t, and yet still delight us.  However the contrast, the conventional wisdom turned on its head, is very frequently a provocative element in homoerotic wrestling that sorts me out just right.

Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month6’6

I wrenched my back a few days ago and have been in constant pain ever since.  I suspect it was a combination of that last spill off of Ben Godfre’s skateboard and my fireman’s carry of the pretty boy up the stairs to tie him to the bed.  I’ve had a ton of things to write about, but I’ve just felt too miserable to bother.  Clearly, I’m not as young and resilient as I used to be/think I am.  The pain is subsiding as I promise myself to get back to my yoga routine once I’m entirely healed, so I’m back to finally get down to business long overdue: naming the first homoerotic wrestler of the month for 2013.  The winner of the title is, of course, the wrestler who appeared in a December release who turned me on more than any other.  Nominees this month are relatively sparse.  No new catalog from BG East.  Rock Hard Wrestling posted two hot matches: Ethan Andrews putting a Bodybuilder Beatdown on luscious muscleboy Brodie Fisher, and Austin Cooper tying lovely muscle punk Josh Steel up in knots as Coop’s Conquest.  I’m still not tracking exactly when Thunder’s Arena releases their matches (if for no one’s sake but mine, I wish they put out release dates!).  However, I believe Big Sexy and Angelo’s match in No Holds Barred 26 was a December release, as was (I think) Bodybuilder Battle 55 with huge Johnny Bravo and mouthwatering Python as well as Mat Wars 33 with Big Sexy putting Python on gorgeous display.  And if they were December releases, then surely No Holds Barred 27 with Dominic and Angelo, Bodybuilder Battle 56 with Johnny back to devour Tak, and Mat Wars 34 with ripped Braden taking on equally ripped Brad Barnes are as well.  Muscle Domination Wrestling, the new kids on the block, posted Morgan Cruise (with facial hair) reworking over big farmboy Tony Law in Sweaty Stud Contortion, and a members-only match with Morgan reasserting his corporal ownership of Damien Rush’s balls in Sexual Domination.  Steel Muscle God and his Britboy wrestling hookup, Connor, qualified with a novelty beatdown on a frighteningly skinny kid who goes by “Slim Studman.”

Top-notch wrestling that tweaks my personal kink was not well represented in the depth of this field in December.  However, there were a couple matches that stood out for me as particularly eye catching, and one wrestler in particular that sold me more satisfyingly than any other this time around.  Better late than never, my new reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month is…

6′, 205 lbs: aptly named Big Sexy

…Thunder’s Arena’s Big Sexy.
I had to check 3 times to convince myself that this is the first HWOTM title for Big Sexy, because somehow that just doesn’t seem possible.  He lives up to his name in such a literal way!  How he’s failed to grab hold of the title with both hands before now is a mystery.

In this particularly attention grabbing case, his opponent is a guilty pleasure of mine. Python is such a mouthwatering muscle stud!  Those insane biceps are nothing short of phenomenal, but I have to say it’s Python’s massive muscle glutes that I’m a little obsessed with.  This kid desperately needs to loosen up, but if this were an award for eye candy of the month, this entire post could easily be about bicep boy.  As it is, though, the title is homoerotic wrestler of the month, and in that foot race, gorgeous Big Sexy leaves his “little” opponent in the dust.  But the journey is delightful to watch!

That…. ASS!
The opening camera angle is of Big Sexy, from behind, staring out the window waiting impatiently for the eye candy to arrive.  This is a stroke of directing genius, my friends, because as much as I’d like to sink my fingertips into Python’s luscious ass, I’d like to fall on my knees and worship the astonishingly sexy ass of Big Sexy.  His glutes make me gasp every time I see them.  It’s a sculpted ass of pure muscle.  My guess is that Big Sexy’s genetics, unlike Python’s, don’t afford him a platinum ass by default.  Without having pumped out endless squats, I would guess that Big Sexy’s booty would be flat as a board.  Thankfully, Big Sexy has, obviously, pumped out those endless squats, building muscle fiber by muscle fiber a powerhouse ass to make me desperate to grab him by the hips and plow that moneymaker for a decade.
Personally, I’d settle for googling all over how awesome Big Sexy is.

Python tries to smack talk way, way, way out of his league when he criticizes Big Sexy’s trunks (“Am I wrestling a watermelon!?”) and his body (“Big Sexy?  Little!”).  “I’m also six feet tall,” Big Sexy snaps back.  “What are you?  5’1?… You’re like a midget, man!”  They do some side by side comparisons of their guns, along with some appraising squeezes.  Big Sexy suddenly turns to the camera and pleads, “What are you all doing to me!? I wanted someone to wrestle, not… google all over how awesome I am!  Look at this!  This is Big Sexy!  I’m here… all day.”

“You’d better not be flexing!”

About a third of a second after the wrestling starts, Big Sexy is mounted across Python’s muscled back, slapping him in the back of the head humiliatingly.  In classic Big Sexy fashion, for every one part physical domination, he mixes in a heaping helping of two parts verbal domination.  “I wonder how much your bicep would take before I break it?” he murmurs, locking Python’s veiny python outstretched vulnerably.  Python huffs and puffs like a steam engine, trying to power his way to freedom, while calm, cool, collected mat veteran Big Sexy exerts absolutely no more effort than absolutely necessary to keep the muscle kid compromised.

Big Sexy is a fan pleaser, first and foremost.

With Python’s face smashed into the mat and Big Sexy controlling him handily with a simple half nelson, Big Sexy slides toward the camera and smiles at his fans. “You see, guys,” he says, pointing at his beautiful torso, “I work on these abs for you.  It doesn’t matter what he’s doing over there,” he dismisses the steam engine muscle punk huffing away in a vain attempt at escape.  “Don’t even look over there.  This is it,” he crunches his abs and flexes his left bicep. “This is perfection.”

Big Sexy leaves his muscle punk opponent nowhere to go but down.

There’s a truly gorgeous moment early on when Python launches an offensive, locking up Big Sexy’s left leg and neck in a muscle-encased small package.  With stunning control, Big Sexy rolls the kid over, breaks free his leg, an reverses, not only wrapping Python up in a tit-for-tat musclelocked small package, but then standing up and parading him around upside down and folded in half.  Holy hell, that’s both impressive and incredibly hot!

“Kiss it.  Kiss it!”

As with most Thunder’s matches, there’s a heavy hit of screwing around, friendly bullying in this match.  For example, channeling my older brother from my early childhood, Big Sexy nearly rips Python’s left leg out of his pelvis in a vicious small package, and then forces Python to kiss his own knee… just because he can.  “See, just do what I want!” Big Sexy explains.  “Things’ll go better for you.”

Tragically, I can’t find this perfect move in the video!

This is technically not a squash, I suppose.  At least, Python has some offense and some superhuman strength to hoist his much larger opponent over his shoulders.  There’s a still from Thunder’s Arena of a shot of the Sexy One suffering just a bit in the most appropriate hold ever placed on Big Sexy: a reverse bearhug (though I swear I can’t find this hold in the match itself).  A little more grinding of his crotch into that infinitely fuckable ass and this could easily morph from frat house hijinks into full on, explicitly homoerotic fare.   In a sweet moment of promise for Python, he force feeds Big Sexy a deviled egg as he has the Sexy One’s trapped solidly in a side headlock.

“Not so tough down there, huh, are you?”

But honestly, Python comes across little more than a gym bunny learning that eye candy is not the same as wrestling dominance.  Big Sexy stretches his boy’s muscled body out gorgeously, both toying with the kid and demonstrating his commitment to his fans by showing off his captured prey.  At will, he rolls Python’s shoulders flat on the mat. “Not so tough down there, huh, are you?” he mutters effortlessly as the muscle kid continues to huff and puff in pain.

“Decent,” Big Sexy concedes.

Demonstrating his complete control of the moment, he abruptly calls off the action and explains that he needs to chat with his fans.  With dialogue successful in both welcoming muscle worship and withering the ego of his opponent, Big Sexy flexes his sweat soaked body as he towers over the camera.  “Go ahead, you can show what you think you have.  They might want to see something like that,” Big Sexy sounds doubtful as Python pumps his mountainous right bicep at the camera.  “Everyone’s got a market.  Twinks sell pretty well, you’re doing okay.”  Python, of course, is no twink.  He has more muscle mass in one tricep than a bona fide twink has in his entire body.  But then again, Big Sexy probably has more muscle mass in one quad than Python has in both his legs.  Big Sexy is not easily impressed.  “Decent, I’ll give you that,” he mutters, his praise more damning than outright contempt.

Crushing his opponent alive, Big Sexy shows off that gorgeous ass and gives his fans a wink.

He is unquestionably big and sexy.  His mat wrestling is stunning, even when he’s going easy on a flat footed rook.  He sweats with the best of them.  His trash talking is top tier.  And most enjoyably of all for me, particularly in this match, Big Sexy knows, appreciates, and is out to please his fans, with more than a nod and wink, showing off his own fantasy muscle body as well as displaying his muscle punk opponent’s eye candy deliciously.  I’m sure it’s long overdue, but then again, it’s about time he shaved off that nasty ass beard, finally pulling it together for a performance that solidly convinces me that there’s just no other choice to be made.  Big Sexy is my reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month.

Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month: Big Sexy

Aw, Shucks

Thunder’s Arena’s Python (and his goofy grin)
On Friday I started off my review of the top biceps that turn me on in homoerotic wrestling by marveling at the fierce pythons on Thunder’s Arena’s new muscle boy, Python. I also mentioned in passing, among Python’s many notable features, he’s got a damn adorably goofy grin. I haven’t seen his debut against Angel yet, but his photo shoot pics are full shots of that toothy, awkward, cute-as-a-button overbite from the slammin’ gorgeous bodybuilder. The “aw shucks” homoerotic wrestler has a strong appeal for me. The “aw shucks” wrestler is that rookie who, whether he’s got the guns to blaze like Python or not, he sports an undisguisable self-consciousness about him.  He looks like he’s got an ocean of insecurity swirling just underneath the surface of a barely managed game face.  Without words, he communicates with perfect clarity, “aw shucks, I’m just lucky to be here.” He knows we’re looking at him, marveling, fantasizing, and he feels like he should probably do something, flex just so or say something witty, but all that he’s got at the moment is that “aw shucks” goofy grin.
Thunder’s Arena Dallas goes from  “aw shucks” to “oh, shit!”
Thunder’s Arena puts up more than their fair share of “aw shucks” wrestlers.  Before his recent match with Coupe, Dallas adamantly insisted that between the two of them (both with spotty win-loss records, to say the least), he was the bigger chump. Coupe couldn’t believe that Dallas could possibly be as much of a jobber as he is. But the look on Dallas’ face as they faced off in speedos is priceless. It morphed delightfully from “aw shucks” to “oh, shit!” Coupe is an extraordinary muscle freak, and Dallas, while delightful to look at it, is relatively soft and crunchable standing vulnerably in Coupe’s shadow. Self-conscious vulnerability, stage fright, a little bit of “what the fuck am I doing here?!”… it can be a nice element in the typically over the top battle of narcissists who more frequently populate the scene.
Big Sexy and PeeWee give the “aw shucks” wrestling motif 4 thumbs up.

Thunder’s took Aw Shucks to (and possibly over) the edge of credulity with the infinitely fuckable babyface who wrestles diminutively as PeeWee. PeeWee showed up to audition for Thunder’s knowing full well that he’d get his ass kicked. Big Sexy is more than happy to make PeeWee’s prophecy self-fulfilling, but PeeWee keeps the “aw shucks” attitude going from start to finish. He’s a hot little muscle stud with some unquestionably hot moves of his own, but even when he’s working some rare riding time on Sexy, PeeWee is profoundly insecure and self-deprecating. Even when he’s got Sexy so compromised that he could (if he chose) yank down Sexy’s trunks and fuck his ass, PeeWee is supremely self-critical and predicts his own demise. Bulging muscles, bulging pouch, bulging insecurity… this works for me in many (though definitely not all) cases.

Showing up for his BG East audition sexy Alexi Adamov
grins nervously for approval from Brad Rochelle.
Thunder’s, however, definitely doesn’t corner the market in “aw shucks” wrestlers. These days, tall, tasty Alexi Adamov is all about that deep bass rumble and a tenuous certainty that he can, on any given day, kick some ass.  But in his first BG East match, showing up for a faux “audition” after the stealth coup of the compound by heel-turned Brad Rochelle, Alexi is one great big, luscious, gorgeously smooth, ridiculously pretty slice of humble pie. Brad, getting his kicks off of fucking with the newbie’s mind, requires that the Russian babyface try on several possible gear choices, each one more made-to-order for a jobber beatdown than the last. Alexi poses for Brad, obeying the veteran’s instructions, proud of his beautiful body but seemingly easily unnerved by Brad’s strategic verbal jabs and slights. Alexi is just pleased as punch to get a shot at the world of BG East, and recently emerged heel Brad is like a hungry spider, slowly luring the fly into his web to slowly, mercilessly suck him dry.
Morgan Cruise – too smiley to heel?
Morgan Cruise is a quick study, learning nasty-ass lessons from the likes of pro veteran (and current contender to re-take the title as my favorite homoerotic wrestler – nonpornboy division) Lon Dumont on the nuts and bolts of constructing a BG East ring heel. Morgan’s most recent appearance was showing that he was taking notes from Lon by turning around and catching ripped rookie (and last month’s homoerotic wrestler of the month) Eli Black off guard and pounding the shit out of him forever. But if you missed Morgan’s first match, facing off against Lon with the explicit agenda of being BG East’s next great heel, then you missed Morgan’s “aw shucks” moment (which was, not coincidentally, the same moment that it was crystal clear that Lon was going to own his ass). Morgan flexes proudly. He bounces his pecs in Lon’s face. He says the right words about being confident in his own destiny as a big, burly muscle heel. But he’s got that unmistakable toothy, self-conconsious, I-can’t-quite-sell-myself grin on his face. Lon even notes that Morgan is a little too “smiley” for a heel-wannabe. Lon’s crushing of him seems to have squeezed the “aw shucks” right out of him, but no mistaking it, Morgan Cruise initially showed as an “aw shucks” rookie bear cub.

Rio Garza always looks like he can’t quite believe
his own luck.

And finally, when it comes to “aw shucks” wrestlers, Rio Garza’s tasty hot ass is seated squarely in line with the best of them. Can-Am has exploited what I’m guessing is Rio’s genuine state, that of the stunning muscle stud who’s a little awed to be asked back over and over to be ogled and admired by armies of gay wrestling fans. When he faced Aryx Quinn (pretty much the opposite of the “aw shucks” wrestler), like Alexi Adamov, Rio was easily manipulated by the mind games of a sadistic veteran. Rio was nothing short of humbled by the status as a brand new Can-Am “exclusive,” and with some strategically placed compliments from Aryx, the awkward, sort of embarrassed grin on his face grew. This all simply makes him oh-so-ripe for a humorless and merciless crushing from Aryx. The device works particularly well with Rio, I think, explaining why he showed up wanting Cameron Mathews and Paul Hudson to teach him how to be a pro wrestler. He knows he’s strong. He knows the fans like looking at him. But with a little nervous grin, he admits to the pros that he’s got something to learn about the business. Cameron and Paul, of course, oblige, and Rio’s “aw shucks” awkward grin gets twisted into beautiful agony soon enough.

All those muscles can’t quite disguise the self-conscious grin on Python’s face.

A little “aw shucks” goes a long way for what turns me on. Overplayed, and it comes across as amateurish and distinctly less than erotic. But sprinkled on top of a hot steaming helping of beautiful bodies, skimpy gear, and hard hammering wrestling, an adorably goofy smile and a self-conscious glance down at one’s own feet can make for a sweet set-up to an arousing match.


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.