Living the Fantasy

BG East’s catalog 113 has landed, and I’m tucking in to feast for days. Fan Fantasy 4 immediately caught my attention because… Kid Karisma. I decided to watch the first match on the DVD first, though, to whet my appetite, to just get my engine running so that I’m all tuned up for Kid K’s match. Instead, I got completely derailed and delightfully charmed by seductively sexy muscle fan Rafael Verga living the dream with his hands all over bulging beefcake Kieran Dunne.

Welcome back, Rafael! I’ve missed you.

Rafael was a standout in his debut mat match against Blaine Janus a couple of years ago. There was a sensational playful sensuality about the Latin beauty that turned my crank with both hands. Finally back on the mats, Rafael is one of the most compelling characters in homoerotic wrestling I’ve seen in quite a while as the slack jawed, grinning ear to ear, stammering, wide-eyed muscle freak fanatic dropping a massive wad of cash in order to experience the fantasy come true of not just meeting, not just admiring, but getting to wrestle bulging bro Kieran.

Kieran makes Rafael’s dreams come true.

Kieran dishes up some surprising sexy twists and turns in this match, too. It was supposed to just be a private posing session, but that thick, pulsing mass of cash in Rafael’s pocket convinces Kieran to treat his fan to some wrestling fantasy, too. But Kieran doesn’t just throw down. He insists that Rafael slip into something more apropos. Rafael quickly drops his baggy shorts to reveal sexy black square cuts with red racing stripes underneath (he came prepared). But Kieran refuses to let his fan wear black (“I’m the bad ass!”), so he sends Rafael out to raid the BG East trunk closet. He comes back in crazy sexy red square cuts that are super low rise. Kieran takes a long, appraising look but sends him back again, because Kieran wants to see more skin (uh, fuck, yes!?).  Rafael keeps coming back in tighter, trimmer, sexier trunks painted onto his gorgeous bronzed body. Kieran has the kid turn around slowly for him to check them out from every angle. He gets on his knees and slides his fingertips underneath the fabric, stretching and straightening the swatches to show off Rafael’s magnificent thighs, flat as a pancake abdomen, and one of the most sensationally juicy asses on a skinny boy I’ve ever seen.  I had no idea Kieran was such a connoisseur! The hands-on fashion show has me gagging for  full contact confrontation.

Do you like what you see?

Kieran finally agrees to the obvious. Rafael’s baby blue trunks with white side panels are perfection. “So, what’s your favorite hold?” he asks his fan. Without skipping a beat, with that earnest-as-fuck smile across his beautiful face, Rafael gushes, “I love your headscissors, man!” Generous to a fault, Kieran offers to let his eager fan skip the foreplay and slide right into place. Rafael clearly wants to be nowhere else in the world, but after a few minutes of feeling Kieran’s massive quads bearing down on his skull, Rafael pleads, “But, I want to see you!” Kieran doesn’t quite get it for a second, but with a wry grin, he lightens up the vice and lets his fan spin around to settle into a super sexy, downright gagging for it, face-to-crotch headscissors.

Homoerotic wrestling dreams do come true!

The plot of this encounter turns on the tension between Rafael’s pent up, fan-crazed desire to soak in every last second of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and Kieran’s growing frustration that his #1 fan refuses to submit. Kieran keeps doubling down, keeps taunting and testing. “You can’t be enjoying this!?” he insists, he questions disbelievingly. But quite obviously, Rafael is having he time of his life!

Kieran can’t quite understand how much Rafael is (and I am) enjoying this.

The other compelling twist in this narrative is the reveal that Rafael’s fantasy isn’t only to suffer at the mercy of his top muscleman infatuation. Apparently, Rafael knows Kieran’s resume intimately, and he seems to know ahead of time how sensationally sexy it is to watch Kieran’s bulging, powerful muscles squirm and squeal at the mercy of an opponent (check Kieran’s early career, and his face in the dictionary under “Muscle Jobber”). I thought Rafael’s face was downright beaming when on the receiving end, but damn, he’s glowing with erotic pleasure watching all of Kieran’s muscles made impotent when he’s stuck in the beartrap of Rafael’s thighs.

“Is this how you do it?!”

The other narrative device in this match that tickles me no end is that just like Kieran doesn’t quite “get it” that Rafael is aching to suck down every ounce of offense the muscle boy can manage, Rafael doesn’t really “get it” that his irrepressible enthusiasm and lust are seriously pissing Kieran off. Kieran’s bulges glisten with sweat as he works so much harder than he’d expected to make the sultry middleweight submit. He’s raging when Rafael steals some lustful strokes of Kieran’s trapped body, the muscle boy grunting furiously. “Not bad?” Rafael smirks, honest to the wrestling gods, taunting his infatuation. The Latin heartthrob flexes his biceps and actually laughs out loud. “Is this how you do it?,” he asks, making Kieran submit, and then submit again humiliatingly before he lets him go.

“You son of a bitch!”

“You son of a bitch!” Kieran rages. This is not going the way he’d expected this to go! But this is going exactly the way Rafael’s fondest, barely acknowledgeable secret fantasies have always wanted. “Sorry about that man,” the #1 fan apologizes sincerely. “I just got too much into it. It just looked so good!”

Every ounce of punishment makes Rafael bulge harder.

So, it’s true, Rafael is not the typical #1 homoerotic wrestling fan. He doesn’t just hold his own, he grabs Kieran’s and manages to throttle the muscleboy with abandon. Kieran doesn’t get how much he wants it, and Rafael doesn’t get how much he is bruising his infatuation’s surprisingly delicate ego. This match begs the question of how far do you take it, how far do you push it, when the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to wrestle your fondest fantasyman presents itself?

Fantasyman possessed!? (look at Rafael’s sensational ass!!!)

I’m such a huge fan of Rafael Verga’s right now. This narrative could have come across as incredibly hokey. It could’ve been canned ham, if it weren’t for the full throttle sell of every inch and second by Rafael. He’s got a big personality and a deep respect for the homoeroticism of wrestling, and that, paired with one of the sexiest, most fuckable lean bodies in the business, makes this opening match of Fan Fantasy 4 a major league, headliner quality hit.

Living the fantasy

Recaps, Goodbyes, and Till-We-Meet-Agains

I’m happily making headway on the final match of the Secretarial Pool auditions. Those of you not particularly following the story in my wrestling fiction may be a bit bored with my postings on the topic, but I’m finding that getting my imagination fully engaged with these boys intensely and repeatedly to write this elimination tournament is quite an intimate experience. Even when I’m not writing about them, I catch myself thinking about them. If you haven’t read a match yet, be forewarned that today’s post is a post-mortem on the also-rans whose fates have already been decided in the unfolding story in my wrestling fiction.
Of course, it helps that these boys are gorgeous hunks of muscle. Try to squeeze Alan Ritchson’s bubble butt into a skimpy speedo, and I’m doomed to ruminate on him. Alan was the first to get his ass kicked out of the tournament. He was nothing if not overconfident in his first round match up. He assumed that Jared Prudoff was going to be a pushover, little more than a rung in the ladder that Alan would be climbing up to grab the brass ring. Little did Alan realize that he’d drawn perhaps the shortest straw in the bunch, going head to head with the competitor that would be the first to clinch a spot in the finals of the tournament. In typical Jared-style, Alan was suckered, drained, and then put away wet. I imagine him, these days, lounging by a pool, obsessively replaying what went wrong for him in his bid for a recurring role in the world of my wrestling imagination.

The next slab of beef kicked to the curb in the tournament was Jakub Stefano. Jakub was seriously difficult for me to let go of, after Nick Auger schooled him so viciously in the importance of committing to a job and seeing it through all the way to the end. In my imagination, at least, Jakub is quite a sympathetic character. He’s a surprisingly gentle giant, genetically gifted with the body of a god, but more comfortable with being worshipped than with using those muscles to dominate. I fondly picture Jakub these days with a splint around his broken finger, enthusiastically self-worshiping in the shower, perhaps more than a little turned on by the vivid memory of finding himself entirely at the mercy of eventual tournament finalist Nick.

Next out the door was the big, confident power of Sean Sullivan. Sean was also particularly difficult for me to see exit the tournament. Sean may have been a little distracted by setting his initial sights on Ellis McCreadie. Sean thought that he had his first round match all sewn up, with an underhanded ambush to start with and his relentless, dominating power to subdue fashion boy Rafael Verga. He seriously did not see it coming when Rafael entirely derailed him with tongue-wrestling as a prelude to stripping Sean naked and spreading his legs wide with Rafael’s foot poised on top of Sean’s balls. I imagine Sean still can’t quite believe that he was beaten, and he lives in fear that the story of his humiliating stripping and beating will get out.

The final first round loser was the Kerry Degman. Kerry’s speed and skill were entirely unmatched by his opponent, Ellis McCreadie. Kerry had his way with Ellis, nearly from the beginning to the end of the match. Kerry had Ellis completely at his mercy repeatedly, from taking him to the brink of unconsciousness with Kerry’s ass smothering his face, to back to back rapid-fire suplexes, Kerry put together a can’t-miss game plan to secure victory. Somehow, still, he missed. By sheer, dumb luck, Ellis managed to snatch victory out of the jaws of defeat just as he planted his own victorious cock inside the jaws of his beaten opponent. I can’t help but think that Kerry’s skill and beauty won’t stay down for long, and despite this set back, he has all the right assets to thrive in the postmodern world of my imagination.

The semi-finals were populated by competitors that I was loathe to see knocked out of contention. I could imagine dozens of fights starring the devastatingly handsome Rafael Verga, for example, and never get tired of setting him loose on still one more opponent. Like Alan in the first round, though, Rafael ran into the buzz saw of finalist Jared. Still, the way I picture him, Rafael is sexually irrepressible, devastating with strikes, and thoroughly miserable to have been humiliated at the hands of Jared (said hands clawing at Rafael’s balls as he was captured in an over-the-knee-backbreaker). Some time away, fishing shirtless and meditating on the direction of his life and career, are likely in order for the Brazilian beauty.

First to get an invitation to the tournament and last to be eliminated prior to the final match, Ellis McCreadie is another beautiful boy that’s hard to say goodbye to. Ellis survival into the semi-finals was as mysterious as the source of the call inviting him to claim a spot in the auditions. Ellis took a lot of punishment from start to finish, even prior to walking into the rec room, and still he managed to rise way above expectations. His victory lap after forcing a submission from Kerry Degman in round one gave just a hint of what sort of fighter a seriously confident Ellis could turn into. Much more than confidence, strength or skill, what Ellis excelled in was in bringing a stunning string of luck to bear upon his matches. That, paired with his ability to endure prolonged, humiliating punishment, gave him staying power that’s hard to part with. I imagine Ellis will continue to ride his incredible string of good luck to land on his feet, despite submitting in a seated rear choke under threat of being plowed unconscious by finalist and muscleboy extraordinaire, Nick.

Frankly, I strongly suspect you’ll be seeing at least a couple of these worthy competitors again, considering the difficulty I have in saying goodbye to them. I’ll be publishing the final contest pitting Nick against Jared shortly, finally bringing to a close the long, slow unfolding of this tournament of champions. The only thing to count on at this point is that there will be one last goodbye before the auditions are history.

And Then There Were Three

Making progress on my wrestling fiction, I’ve posted the first semi-final match in the Producer’s Ring Secretarial Pool auditions. It pits first round stand-outs Jared Prudoff and Rafael Verga in a balls out, back and forth battle to the bitter end.

As I’ve worked my way deeper into this tournament, I’m finding myself having trouble saying goodbye to the inevitable losers who have to fall by the wayside. Choosing between Jared and Rafael to survive in my wrestling fiction world, for example, is a painful pill to swallow.
In the end, there are no ties in the Producer’s Ring, and one beautiful man inevitably comes out on top, though in this case someone also manages to cum out on the bottom. In the reality of the Producer’s Ring, the final decision of who will be victorious and claim a job with Brody Productions will have happened by the end of the day.
In our reality, it’ll probably take me another week or two to finish off the last two matches, though happily, both are already well under way. Hopefully they’ll be worth the wait.

Labors and Love

I’ve finally had an opportunity to put some writing time in on the next Secretarial Pool audition match. You all have been both patient and gracious with my excuses for not posting in a more timely fashion. The primary excuse is that the work I do to pay the bills has swamped me lately. This blog and my wrestling fiction are entirely a labor of love (note, no ads, no donations accepted, just me and you having some fun considering what turns us on). Fortunately, I’m having a little more time for labors of love very recently. So I’ve been back to being immersed in considering every angle, muscle, and movement of the next two competitors for the Secretarial Pool audition:
Sean Sullivan and Rafael Verga.

In the non-fiction world (if you can call the world of male modeling non-fiction), Sean Sullivan has been photographed both in huge, muscleboy fitness mode and in a somewhat slimmer, more artsy fashion mode. He’s worship-worthy in any case, particularly with those shiny gray eyes and his locks left long and curly. For the purposes of the Producer’s Ring, though, Sean is in his beefiest condition, massively muscled, pounding pecs, vascular cobra arms and traps nearly up to his ears.
Sean sees this competition as coming down to him and fellow fitness musclegod, Nick Auger. The rest of the fashion boys are just speed bumps in his way to the inevitable clash of the titans. Rafael, on the other hand, is determined to be no one’s speed bump.
A particular full frontal of Rafael has set my imagination on fire in the last couple of days, and I’m 100% certain that it will show up in the text of the match itself. Where Sean’s dominating strength is self-evident, Rafael’s capoeira could show up as the wild card in this match. Where do rhythm, balance and speed stack up against overwhelming power?
The more time I spend with Rafael (in my imagination), the more I’m struck by how ridiculously handsome he is. I don’t count either of these boys as pretty, and in particular I find Rafael’s face almost hyper-masculine.
I think that these are two hunks accustomed to being on top, in the saddle, and taking charge. Rafael, no less than Sean, is certain of the inevitability of his victory. Unlike the beginning of Nick and Jakub’s match, when you could sort of taste Jakub’s desperation in the air, both Rafael and Sean are unfailingly confident that they have something up their sleeves (and down their pants) that simply cannot be denied. Unstoppable force… immovable object… the only certainty here is that someone will be tamed, forced to submit, and if things are heading where I think they’re heading, surrendering in mind, body, and spirit.

Thanks for Your Patience

Life continues to derail me from my writing. I continue to get gentle prods emailed to me, asking me about when the next match will be posted in the Secretarial Pool audition tournament. I have a little time to work on it this weekend, but I don’t know if it will be enough to finish it off. I don’t know how much time you think it takes me write up a match, but it takes considerable time. I’ve also found that it’s crucial that I have some time away from a completed draft, in order to come back with fresh eyes. For your patience, though, I’ll let you know that next up to face off for a shot at greatness will be Sean Sullivan

I was first introduced to both of these boys through the nominations process for the tournament. I was excited that both of them made the cut to compete. They’re both already fun to write for. Rafael is a Brazilian sex pot that, one has to imagine, is a little frustrated to draw one of the biggest fitness models in the competition for his first round face-off. Everyone has been hoping to get their hands on doe-eyed Ellis McCreadie, but that privilege has clearly fallen to the last man in the wings, Kerry Degman. Rafael, on the other hand, will face off with the massive muscles and quick temper of full-on side of beef, Sean.
Sean, for his part, has had his eyes set on Nick Auger from the start. Sure, Sean would have liked to break Ellis into several pieces to establish his position in the tournament, but Sean has seen these auditions as marching inevitably to the point of muscle vs. muscle, power vs. power, brute force vs. brute force. Runway models like Rafael typically don’t carry around the muscle of someone like Sean or Nick, so when push comes to shove, Sean is determined to push and shove the little fashion boys to their knees. So the question that the bookies need to ask themselves, is whether Rafael, or any of the other fashion boys, will have the smarts to assemble a strategy that can blunt Sean’s (or Nick’s) dominating power, deflect his testosterone-laden rage, and in turn make a muscle god scream out, “I submit!”

The People Have Spoken

The polling for the competitors in the elimination tournament to determine who will join the ranks of the secretarial pool in Brody Productions turned out surprisingly tight! There were some clear winners and clear losers, with three hot studs right in the middle who battled to the bitter end for the final two spots in the tournament. Let’s start with the losers:

Phil Baroni made a late push in the polls, but fell short of earning a spot in the competition. As I’ve mentioned before, Phil is the stuff of fantasies, though, so I wouldn’t be surprised to find him showing up in some fantasy wrestling of some sort. The Producer’s Ring has given him a pass, though, so he’s a free agent. Someone really ought to write this beautiful boy a wrestling match for the Sidelineland group.
Bryan Thomas actually lost a vote late in polling, which is intriguing. Someone changed a vote or two, which smells of some back alley horse trading. I’m actually little surprised by Bryan’s poor showing. Again, he’s a free agent for anyone to pick up and write up a wrestling match, and personally I’m hoping to see his hairy pecs featured prominently.
Jamie Dominic remains a personal obsession of mine, despite his inability to curry favor with a majority of the voters. If someone else doesn’t get around to it sooner, I expect that he’ll have appear in one of my wrestling fiction fantasies eventually. Seriously… only 4 votes?
Matt Schiermeier never gained any traction throughout the polling. He looks like a beast to me, but he just didn’t seem to grab much attention. I think he’s pissed about his poor showing, and he’s ready to prove something. Someone should pick up this free agent and put that ass to work… in a jock strap, please.
Now for the clear winners: Nick Auger kicked ass in this polling! Not that I’m surprised, but 3 out of 4 voters were certain that Nick must be given a shot at a spot in the secretarial pool. With the sheer size he’s brining with him, he’s bound to be a dominant force in the tournament. The fashion boys in the mix had better bring some dirty tricks with them, because if it comes down to raw power, Nick is going to be breaking boys in half.
Jakub Stefano was spinning his wheels for the first 24 hours of voting, hitch-hiking toward Loserville. Suddenly, though, he made a surge that propelled him from last place to second place. He’s one massive and beautiful man who, like Nick, could be bringing enough muscles to do serious harm on some of the runway boys in the mix. This boy is sporting so many targets of abuse, though: the massive pecs, the half-dollar nipples, the babyface… that ASS!? His best shot at victory may be that his opponents will be paralyzed by too many options to focus their torturing attentions.
One of the runway boys who had staying power throughout polling was Brazilian hunk, Rafael Verga. I’m sure his countryman, Miro Moreira (already a powerhouse in the secretarial pool), was pulling for him. Up against the likes of the muscleboys who’ve secured a place in the tournament, Rafael had better bring his A-game and then some! Someone is likely to be bound and determined to mess up that movie-star face of his.
Sean Sullivan is another musclestud who stayed strong and earned an undisputed spot on the card. I think that Sean may be the only hardbody who can stand muscle for muscle next to Nick. If this turns into a muscle competition, the champion may be determined by a battle between these two meaty morsels.
Alan Ritchson mounted a serious last-minute push to come from way, way behind in voting. I’d pretty much counted him out of the running, but he crossed the finish line with just enough support to secure a spot in the tournament. With screen credits to his name, Alan very well may be an early target for some of the lesser known challengers who are determined to make a name for themselves by felling the 6’2″ chiseled blond.
Ellis McCreadie has also earned himself a major bullseye painted on his ass for his automatic-by into the tournament. With egos to match the size of their massive muscles, a lot of these boys are going to be seriously put out to discover a relative nobody didn’t have to put his reputation on the line to get an invitation to this show. Who, exactly, did Ellis have to fuck to be handed his shot at power? Who, exactly, will be determined to fuck him over in order to put him in his place (i.e., on his stomach with his ass in the air)?
Jared Prudoff had a strong initial showing in the polls until he stalled dead in the water for the final 24 hours of voting. Frankly, I was worried that he wasn’t going to make the final cut. I seriously wanted to see some of these boys get their hands on Jared, and see what the tall-dark-and-handsome fashion boy might be able to pull out of his ass to earn his way beyond the first round.
Kerry Degman also had a strong initial showing that hit a brick wall halfway through voting. I was a little astonished to watch VJ Logan pose a serious threat to Kerry for the final ticket to the tournament. VJ Logan? Seriously? The diversity of tastes and preferences out there truly astounds me sometimes. Since I’m the one who will be devoting several hours of my life sorting through the action between all these boys, I’m glad that Kerry eeked out enough support to get the last spot in the competition. He may have come in last in polling, but I get the sense that he’s got the skills, the speed, and the willingness to go to any lengths to be a serious contender.

So there are your choices for the card of competitors to battle it out for a spot in the secretarial pool. Matches should begin to be posted before the end of the week. Let me know who you think will shine, who you think will stumble, and just how you think 7 out of 8 cocky pretty boys are going to suffer humiliating defeat.

You Decide

The team at Brody Productions is pouring through photos of aspiring executive assistants. You can lend a hand in selecting the elite eight to compete for a shot to join the corporate team in the
fictional wrestling-obsessed world of the Producer’s Ring. Ellis McCreadie is already given a pass into the tournament based on nepotism. Deal with it. You can help decide who he’ll be facing for his shot at power:

Phil Baroni was an early nominee, but I have to put my foot down and say that in the world of the Producer’s Ring, Phil is more like his pretty, modelboy self than the MMA jobber stud he’s become in our world. The question you have to ask yourself is whether pre-MMA Phil had the stamina and determination to fight his way to the top in baby oil and a speedo.
Alan Ritchson was also nominated, though he could easily qualify as one of the acting talents who also wrestle in the Producer’s Ring. Still, if you’d like to see Alan tracked into the secretarial pool, vote for him to join the competition here. If he washes out, he still may have a shot on camera, perhaps with his vanquisher calling the shots of his on-screen career.
Sean Sullivan was a beautiful new face to me that was nominated for a shot in the Producer’s Ring. He’s got a fratboy look, which might not bode well for him in competition (just be forewarned), but he very well may bring something surprising to the audition. The curls are made for yanking, which I suppose might earn him some votes and lose him others.
Rafael Verga is one stunningly, classically handsome hunk of man who I’m thrilled to be introduced to through the nominations process. The pec tat is demanding to be licked. In competition, I think that wouldn’t be the only thing requiring oral attention.
Van Jameson Logan was nominated for obvious reasons. Winning America’s Most Smartest Model competition doesn’t bode well for mastering the mind games that are as much part of the competition in the Producer’s Ring as the bodies. Still, it doesn’t necessarily take book smarts to be smart in the Producer’s Ring.
Kerry Degman was another obvious choice for the elimination tournament, due to his credibility as a kick-ass wrestler in high school. Whether or not Kerry could translate amateur success into the down and dirty work required in the Producer’s Ring remains to be seen.
Nick Auger is a fitness model who looks like he’s just aching to prove himself. He’s got the confidence, the muscles, the chiseled chin… but does he have the support of the fans?
Bryan Thomas looks to me like he’s ready, and able, to rip someone’s head off. The tat, the hairy pecs, the rippled abs… can you say no to this man? More importantly, can anyone else fail to say, “I give!” to him?
Don’t let my well-documented obsession with Jamie Dominic sway your vote… let me just say that this man appears regularly in my own private wrestling fantasies, and he’s one fiercely sadistic hellcat.
Jared Prudoff is someone I just haven’t been able to tear my eyes away from since he was pointed out to me. He’s stunning, yet not your standard smooth, plasticized plaything that so many models are. If he makes the cut, I predict he’ll bring something unique into the competition with him.
Matt Schiermeier is another new face to me. Someone was clearly playing to their audience when recommending I check out gorgeously muscled and tattooed Matt. I hope that including two pics of Matt doesn’t skew the poll results, but I just had to share the astonishing view both coming and going, and a shower scene just drives me crazy!
The final applicant under consideration is Czech bombshell Jakub Stefano, who is absolutely everywhere these days. He’s adorable in his YouTube videos, but I have to imagine that the nice guy gloves would come off were he handed the opportunity to join Brody Productions. I predict any match with Jakub would find him enduring some concentrated pec abuse, because, let’s face it, those massive mounds of muscle and mesmerizing nipples are unavoidable targets.

Never let it be said that I’m a tyrant. Let the democratic process commence. (Perhaps I’ll even honor the vote)….