Sex Appeal

A recurring theme here has been my perpetual self-reflection on what it is about homoerotic wrestling that speaks to me. A regular point of perseveration has been what makes a wrestling match particularly “homoerotic.” I can get off on mainstream straight pro wrestling probably almost as much as the next guy, but my bread and butter continues to be this particular industry marketed specifically to gay men. And I know that within this industry, there are straight wrestlers, and the erotic heat that emanates from a lot of matches is what I’m bringing to it as a viewer. And I’m okay with that, as long as the whole interaction effect isn’t cloaked in a closeted wink-wink, where the producer and we know that this is marketed with a gay eye in mind, but the whole thing is kept strictly on the straight side of the fence so that a fan can exercise plausible deniability if they’re caught with an incriminating browser history (“I was just checking out some underground pro, bro”). Yawn.

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Richie Douglas won this match the moment he realized how much Goren Ford wanted his body.

But it also isn’t just an issue of wrestlers pulling out their porn-ready cocks and wrestling hard and naked. Though there’s nothing wrong with that, as far as I’m concerned. In fact, I’m advocating for more straight forward naked wrestling, not just the last 2 minutes of a match before it devolves into out of control face sucking (not that I have any problem with that, either!). But what I key off of isn’t just the explicit homoeroticism of naked bodies, by any means. There’s this sweet spot right in the middle of straight-up pro with me supplying all of the erotic subtext, and hardcore porn with a clumsy grapple as appetizer.

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Chase Addams puts his finger right on the sweet spot.

It’s sexy because of intention and attention. Like when a wrestler acknowledges that his opponent looks hot. The phrase, “Nice ass,” or “sweet pecs,” is pure gold when it comes to dialing a match squarely into the territory that grabs me hard. Of course a “no-homo” disavowal will totally kill that buzz, but happily I see less and less of that in the wrestling I watch these days. They don’t have to get their dicks out. Just notice, appraise the obvious assets of an opponent, and you’ve drawn me into the match. I’m invested 10 times more if the wrestlers state the obvious fact that they are both gorgeous specimens. I never see this in straight-up pro (not that I watch it much anymore), and I think it’s an angle that’s probably even more disruptive of heteronormativity than even getting your gear ripped off. Guys look at guys. Guys appreciate guys. Guys can be turned on by getting their hands on guys. The eroticism peaks long before (and even in the absence of) any cum being added to the recipe.

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Giant Killer Baby Boy Leone pushes Calvin Haynes buttons.

I’ve mentioned before that I regularly push rewind around the time I get to more explicit sexual content at the end of harder-core matches. Like when I was following Naked Kombat, I would skim over the sex round to see if anyone comes close to Rusty Stevens’ perfect mix of corporal punishment, humiliation, and wrestling domination (naked pony rides, leg scissor armbars used like an accelerator pedal to taunt, tease, and torment a loser by commanding them to jack off just shy of orgasm again and again). The fucking itself, even the acrobatic, artistic fucking of professional porn stars who somehow are able to stretch and maneuver into positions that I’m pretty sure would dislocate multiple joints if I attempted them, comes across as downright pedestrian to me. The erotic heat is the sweat-inducing wrestling competition. It’s the suspense and the battle. It’s the passion to dominate knowing that the loser is going to get fucked, rather than the loser getting fucked, in and of itself.

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Lauden worships the mat Drake beats him on.

So I love the story of a wrestler having to battle with his own lust to stay focused on beating his opponent. The erotic offense of one hunk destroying his opponent’s defenses with a nibble of the ear or a stroke of his hot body strikes me as the height of homoerotic. There’s a fantastic, frustrating, intensely provocative tease near the end of some matches where the lines between competition and giving in to total lust get so blurred that I can’t tell what’s an openly erotic trap and what’s just mutual submitting to the intimate passion of bodies grinding into bodies. So when one wrestler is ready to just get down to hooking up, and the other is just playing along long enough to snap shut a sleeper, or pound out a finishing OTK, or slip on a knee-breaking figure-4 leglock for the final, screaming, totally vulnerable submission, fuck that puts me over. Whipping out cocks and sucking and fucking at that point is totally vanilla, as far as I’m concerned. I’m pushing rewind to watch that look of shock wash across the loser’s face when he realizes his lust just walked him by the nose into becoming the property of his new master.

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Skip Vance dials up homoerotic heat with Hawk Rodman

My tastes are broad and varied. I can get off on a wide spectrum of homoerotic content, from barely implied by the copyright holder to blistering hot fuck stakes consummated. But that sweet spot that I crave most in the middle of the normal distribution is unmistakable, and yet resists the easy out of sliding too quickly into hardcore porn. It’s an open nod to me, the audience, and an intentional grappling with the erotic potential between two smoking hot hunks hell bent on dominating one another. It’s a look, a groan, a nibble, a slap, a gasping grope, an unfocused reverie. It’s stating the obvious, that two barely clad studs pounding, grinding, and crushing into one another is potently intimate and powerfully arousing. Guys like guys. Wrestling ensues….

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Mason Brooks profoundly enjoys beating Ty Alexander’s ass.

Our Man Inside

I know of wrestlers who nearly lost their balls getting caught smuggling behind-the-scenes pics out of BG East shoots, so I continue to applaud Our Man Inside (OMI) who once again has dropped a manilla envelope full of random, unpublished BGE candids on my doorstep. This envelope was huge, so I’ll try to refrain from taking up too much space with my comments or speculations. Though, who am I kidding?  I can’t restrain myself from speculating. In any case, OMI, you are my hero!

First up, we’ve got a whole bevy of poolside hotness. I have not appreciated Mad Mykel’s magnificent ass nearly enough until now. On the other hand, Ty Alexander and Richie Douglas’ asses have been on my radar for years. Honestly, who do I need to fuck to get to see more of Richie Douglas incredibly tasty body!? And ever a safety nut, I hope Mykel, Ty and Richie know that I’ve got to hands and a bottle of sunscreen at the ready. Anytime.

Next up, we get a sensationally rare treat of unpublished photos from the BG East ring. I’m instantly titillated by the site of an as-yet-unreleased match pitting papa Shane McCall ripping my long-time infatuation, Drake Marcos, limb from limb. The double team by Kayden Keller and Jonny Firestorm Camel-Crabbing flyweight phenom Charlie Evans is instantly huge drama making my mouth water. But holy fuck, I need to send OMI a gift basket as gratuity for a couple of extremely rare action pics of Kayden working over the stunningly handsome, hot as fuck classic hunk and declared man-of-my-dreams, a contemporary Scott Williams. Please, homoerotic wrestling gods, hear my prayer that this foreshadows new releases starring the Man of My Dreams!!!

So it appears OMI may be a creeper with sensationally good taste, because this next batch has a ton of BGE stars in various states of sleeping, waking, or possibly just cuddling in bed. Such intimate vulnerability. So many slack, supine, defenseless hunks on display. I have an incredibly strong urge to slide under the covers with Kayden and spoon him awake.

This next batch I’ve filed under “letting their hair down.” As I’ve said often, there’s something potently sexy about seeing the ring warriors of my homoerotic fantasies with their guards down, relaxed, happy, and as is evident in these stolen shots, abundantly goofy. And the goof-in-chief most definitely appears to be The Boss himself, who I hope to the homoerotic wrestling gods never finds out who dished me these cutting room floor shots of him hamming it up. This also reminds me, why haven’t we seen more of sensationally hot boybander, Baby Boy Nino Leone?

Finally, this last batch of relatively random shots I’ve compiled under the heading of BGE boys doing what they do best, namely, looking gorgeous. Reigning HWOTM Chase Addams eats shirtless, Drake rehydrates after that match with Papa Shane, and KL, Kayden and Charlie prove how devastatingly handsome they look all cleaned up. And then there’s Ty, Kayden and Jonny looking like they’re acting a Shakespearean scene. Shirtless, of course.

Again, OMI, my deepest gratitude and promise of pseudo-journalistic integrity when it comes to never, ever, under any circumstances up to and including corporal torture, will I disclose anything I know about your true identity. Keep the good times and behind the scenes goodies coming. And all of you BGE boys outed for your handsome smiles and adorability in stolen moments of candid life, keep looking gorgeous. Don’t change a thing.

Pint-Sized

 

I went to college at a very, very small liberal arts school with a very, very unsuccessful Division III football team. They sucked. A lot. Literally, years went by without a single victory. Not that I was involved in the program, but it was no secret that recruiting for the football team was a major bitch. No scholarships. No pro career prospects. Very little hope of ever tasting victory before they graduated or, even more likely, they’d burn through eligibility while hanging on by the skin of their teeth to skimming by in their academics and finally just walking away to dig ditches. Our football team literally shrunk while I was enrolled in college, each year’s freshmen getting smaller, while bigger players went elsewhere. My junior year, the football team recruited a wide receiver who was, I kid you not, 5’2″ tall. Thing is, though, he was fucking fast, with big, powerful thighs, an exceptionally stellar muscled ass, and gorgeous, Tom Cruise-ish good looks. Despite their abysmal record, I suddenly took an interest in football that year.

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5’5″, 140 lbs Drake Wild bears down on 5’11”, 200 lbs Derek Fox in Pro Sex Fight 13

This pint-sized wide receiver with big league glutes and a baby face starred in many a homoerotic wrestling fantasy in my imagination. Just writing about him now is making me hard. There was just so much fabulous potential wrapped up in his tight, taut, petite jock body. In the never ending erotic wrestling tournament in my head, the little wide receiver inevitably got muscle bullied around the ring by bigger guys. I always pictured him getting picked up and thrown from corner to corner. Tall, ripped, cocky hunks (typically from our extremely successful and wildly popular basketball team) would, in the no holds barred wrestling matches in my collegiate imagination, deliver a barrage of high impact, high altitude power moves on him, gorilla presses, scoop slams, one-handed choke slams, spine-tingling suplexes that catapulted his magnificent, muscled ass from corner to corner.

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5’6″, 160 lbs Denny Cartier breaks big 6’2″, 240 lbs Joe Robbins down to size in Catch Weight 2

Rereading my interview with Charlie Evans and perusing several of the comments to that interview remind me of that hot, gorgeous little wide receiver firecraker with a supremely fuckable ass. As I’ve mentioned several times lately, the difference in size itself became erotically charged for me. But far beyond just visuals, I crushed hard on the little stud because of the drama of a vastly undersized hottie audaciously running out onto the field and climbing into the pro wrestling ring in my imagination (through the bottom two ropes, of course) and staring fearlessly up at the overwhelming odds towering above.

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5’7″, 150 lbs Bolt stares way up at 6’2″, 265 lbs Brute in Custom Series 33 from Thunder’s Arena

 

I was relatively agnostic about my all-time favorite wide receiver’s win-loss record in his homoerotic wrestling career in my mind. Like the very best babyfaces, he was always dangerous and perpetually vulnerable at the same time. I distinctly remember him getting his jock strap ripped to shreds and having his rock hard muscle cheeks plowed hard by a particular, hot, muscled black power forward. I also have clear memories of him turning the tide on a certain aloof, blond, aristocratic shooting guard who was schoolboy pinned and force fed the beer can cock of the smirking, flexing wide receiver. Win or lose, he was a favorite object of my homoerotic wrestling imagination not despite his stature, but because of it.  And not just because of his stature, but because of the inherent drama of an ambitious, earnest, hard working little stud throwing himself headlong at the big boys.

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5’9″, 165 lbs Cody  Cummings is jerked around by 6’4″, 220 lbs Zeke West in Mat Muscle Match 1

 

As I told Charlie, I continue to nurture a crush for David vs. Goliath homoerotic wrestling matches. I like big vs. little matches where the differential is massive, the odds are long, and the action is brutal. I love seeing audacious little studs hoisted over head and pounded into the mat. I love seeing them take every ounce as brutal an assault as any heavyweight and then keep peeling their battered, petite, bite-sized bodies off the mats and defying the big boys demanding that they submit in body and soul.

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Fearless 5’10”, 132 lbs Billy Lodi is just barely bested by 6’2″, 206 lbs Mitch Colby in Catch Weight 6

While I don’t care for many matches in which one competitor is just furniture, getting moved and manipulated and owned effortlessly, a match in which a seriously undersized wrestler is defiantly sucking down a mountain of abuse is in a squash-class of its own for me. If the little guy walks in with his head up, clenches his jaw in the face of fate, and demands respect by just surviving a magnificent beating, I will so get off on that just like I did when I staged wide receiver getting his sensational ass tagged in the middle of the ring by that power forward.

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5’7″, 150 lb Bolt momentarily schools 6′, 255 lbs Brian Cage in Ring Wars 21

However, I think my hardest David vs. Goliath fantasies flip that script with a vengeance. When the audacious little underdog battles back against the barrage of muscle and mass, now that is fucking hot. When he starts accumulating riding time on a thoroughbred 50 pounds bigger, my adrenaline pumps into overdrive. And when I pictured my pretty little wide receiver slapping down a big, cocky all-American who’s never tasted defeat before, when he wears the big boy the fuck out, slapping that beer can in Goliath’s shocked, humiliated face, then little David is fucking king of my world.

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5’7″, 120 lbs Charlie Evans shoved into the ceiling by 5’8″, 175 lbs Morgan Cruise in Gorilla Press 1 by MDW

 

I hold heartedly agree with the implication of Charlie’s argument that every homoerotic wrestling roster needs the little guys. Ever roster needs the underwear models and the bodybuilders. Ever roster should have raw edged street punks and square jawed All-American heroes.  They should all have daddy’s little rich boys and ripped, raging, beautifully endowed sex brawlers. The industry should invest in recruiting hard edged pros and hot, inexperienced nerds. It should put up flat footed pornboys and fierce, lanky, long-distance runners. Personally I’m longing for a snarling radical fairy doing battle with a white collar stock broker on the homoerotic wresting down low.

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5’10”, 150 lbs Skrapper is crushed by 5’11”, 240 lbs Brook Stetson in Catch Weight 2

The homoerotic pro wrestling industry is as susceptible to the tyranny of the capitalist market place as anything else, of course, so I certainly understand when, occasionally, it seems like everyone climbing through those ropes looks and moves and suffers alike. But as someone who has watched a TON of homoerotic wrestling (not even counting that running channel in my imagination of round the clock homopro), I’m always longing for producers to fill those niches Charlie and I talked about. Tickle those erotic fantasies we didn’t even know we loved. Populate our screens and imaginations with the great diversity of dramas, bodies, races, ages, etc., that makes oppressively straight real life bearable.

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Little 5’8″, 140 lbs Richie Douglas makes all the little guys proud against 6’1″, 170 lbs Goren Ford in Sunshine Shooters 8

And most definitely, gives us pint-sized baby face heroes audacious enough to climb into the ring with beasts a foot taller and 80 pounds heavier, and to tell us a compelling, seat of our pants, crotch-tugging homoerotic wrestling drama that reflects real life writ larger, more erotic, and completely improbable, but yet, speaking to our real lives.

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5’10”, 156 lbs TAK is dwarfed by 6’3″, 240 lbs Freak in Mat Rats 63 by Thunder’s Arena

And now, excuse me. I need to go dig out an old college yearbook.

Boy Meets World

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Little Richie Douglas

I’ve had my eye on adorable little Richie Douglas from day one. Cute as a fucking button and smooth as a baby’s bottom, Richie is the boy next door I had a raging crush on all my life. His opening forays into BG East competition had a distinct lamb to the slaughter vibe about them. Austin Cooper seriously ate him for lunch, and the EPIC beatdown he took at the hands and boots and pecs and fucking every last inch of Lane Hartley was almost (almost) hard to watch, it was so brutal. But like so many homoerotic wrestling fantasymen, little Richie was phenomenal to watch for the visual feast of sugary sweet, innocent muscle massacre, but I was starting to put him in that sad category of wrestler whose wrestling is “gay” mostly because I’m watching it, rather than anything he says or does in a match.

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Mat scramble

I stand corrected. After watching Richie face big, gorgeous Goren Ford in Sunshine Shooters 8, I have had to reclassify lovely Richie into a whole new category. No longer fresh meat. Not lamb to slaughter. And not rigid straightboy all buttoned up and carefully chaste amid the low down, musky eroticism of the homoerotic wrestling universe. No, Richie is none of those things. What he is, is a compact cock tease with a no longer secret fetish for red lace undergear and making a big, muscle hunk suck his balls.

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Goren digs in deep

You read that right. There’s an unflinching erotic scrapper with boatloads of amateur wrestling cred and an achingly prettyboy jock body all wrapped up nice and tight in that suction packed wrestling singlet. And in Sunshine Shooters 8, gorgeous Goren quite literally unwraps all of that and introduces us to the sexiest little erotic bon bon who’s been hanging out right underneath our noses all along.

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Gorgeous Goren Ford

I popped my cork all over Goren’s Dark Knight debut a while back. Fuck, he’s gorgeous. And he shows up out of nowhere and slaps down one of the sexiest daddy domination matches I’ve seen in a longtime. In contrast to Richie, Goren burned up the mats and scorched my retinas with his overt, sensationally secure, firm but gentle (well, not really gentle) boy taming of notoriously petulant pretty boy, Ty Alexander. Who the fuck does that? Who just shows up on day one of their homoerotic wrestling career, gets naked, looks like a Greek god, and physically and psychologically dominates an industry veteran into being his boy toy? It was a rhetorical question, but the answer is Goren Ford, that’s who.

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Goren muscle bullies the pretty boy

So Sunshine Shooters 8 is a promising pairing from the start. Chaste, ripped boy next door gets interrupted while running drills for his upcoming wrestling tournament by older, wiser, Greed god and erotic savant. “If you want to practice, you can practice with me,” Goren smirks when Richie bitches about having reserved the mats. Big Goren pulls off his t-shirt and flexes those lean, meaty pecs in the boy’s face.

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“Come on, submit.”

Goren is no amateur wrestler, though. He’s the first to admit it. So when little Richie repeatedly outhustles him and takes him to the mat, no one is shocked. However, when Richie slides into a schoolboy pin and starts to taunt the proven whip cracker, I’m a little surprised. “Come on, submit,” Richie smirks, staring down. “No fucking way, man!” Goren refuses in disgust, “not to a little guy like you.”

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“This little guy’s kicking your ass right now!”

 

 

“This little guy’s kicking your ass right now,” Richie smirks, dialing the sexy up to 11. “What do you got to say to that?” Goren has a lot to say, mind you. He’s almost half a foot taller and over 30 pounds heavier, even ripped to the bone like he is. He muscles his way out of several jams and uses all of that superior size and strength to bulldoze the sensational pretty boy underfoot. He still looks new to the wrestling game, but that same calm, overpowering, hungry expertise in bending a hot boy to his will comes shining through time and time again. Big bad Goren makes little Richie hurt. A lot. And then he gives the squirming jock a little breathing space to decide if he’s ready to willingly be big Goren’s personal plaything. Chaste Richie stubbornly refuses. He rejects the erotic overtures. He denies the ripped muscle god bearing down on him the satisfaction.

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Richie goes there!

It’s all going according to plan, I’m thinking, right up until the moment that little Richie  has the big man all snug in headscissors. The little jock looks over his shoulder and smiles, clearly enjoying the sight of Goren’s face crammed nice and tight up next to Richie’s munchable ass. And then he reaches down and rips the baggy shorts off the big man. “You don’t need these,” Richie smirks, suddenly using them to choke him. It’s playful, but deliberate. It’s overtly sexual and all about the erotic domination.  I don’t think Richie is going to be able to translate that move to his upcoming amateur wrestling tournament.

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Richie smothers him.

So that’s eyebrow-archingly sexy new stuff from Richie. I’m liking it even more when he schoolboy pins the big man again and quite deliberately shoves his crotch in Goren’s face. It isn’t just dominating. It’s not a playground nohomo move. It’s erotic and hungry and sexy as hell.

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“So you like shoving your balls in another man’s face?”

“So you like shoving your balls in another man’s face?” Goren says once he’s eaten crow, submitted, and been taunted by the hot little jock bouncing on his feet in front of him. It’s a fair question. I totally expect chaste little Richie to shrug it off and keep this RHW-straight laced. “Maybe,” Richie smirks. What the fuck?! Richie just said that, maybe, he likes shoving his balls in another man’s face!!!

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“Maybe.”

 

Goren does not need an engraved invitation to turn the burner to high. He shoves Richie to the wall and playfully toys with the kid’s singlet, tugging it down. Richie just smiles and lets him. All the way down. Little Richie Douglas just leans back and lets Dark Knight Goren peel his singlet off him, all the way down to red lace briefs.

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“Why don’t you find out?”

“I wonder what else do you like,” Goren says, playing with the kid’s sweet pecs and taking a hands on measure of the heft of the package hanging between Richie’s thighs. “Why don’t you find out?” Richie teases.

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Back to the trough

I just was not expecting this. This is so not a narrative built around the battle between lasciviousness and chastity. This isn’t that familiar morality tale about dabbling on the dark side and getting trapped in hedonistic flypaper. Richie wants it. More than that, he’s ready for it. More than that, he’s a fucking sensational at taking the heat and zinging it right back at the amorous Greek god. Goren flings the kid to the mat and climbs on his back, grinding his crotch into those aforementioned munchable ass cheeks. Far from any gay panic defense, Richie works his way on top and slaps down another schoolboy pin on the big man. And now in those seductive red briefs, little Richie slides forward and smothers the Dark Knight with his balls.

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Little Richie’s all grown up!

At the risk of repeating myself, I was NOT expecting this. Goren opens wide. He sticks out his tongue and laps at the low hanging fruit in his face. He turns his head to the side and slides his tongue slowly up Richie’s smooth inner thigh to the base of his balls. And not-so-chaste-afterall Richie just smiles down and shoves his hips forward another fraction of an inch.

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Little kicks big’s ASS!

The visuals in this match are stunning, and I don’t just mean the two eye-poppingly pretty bodies stripped down to next to nothing. I’ve been writing often about that extra kick I get from size differentials, from starkly mismatched bodies bearing down on each other. 6’1″ Goren muscling his way all over Richie’s 5’8″ fantasy body makes me swoon. And value added still is little Richie Douglas absolutely turning the tables on the Dark Knight and physically, psychologically, and sexually dominating the big man like the unabashed homoerotic scrapper he obviously was all along.  He works the big man convincingly. He owns him with speed and skill, but really puts him away with that big, bulging pouch repeatedly shoved into his gaping mouth. It’s a big vs. little scenario where sensationally sexy little grabs the bull by the horns and makes this big, muscled beauty his own.

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Suck on that humiliation

“See you in the showers,” Richie says over his shoulder as he saunters that bon bon ass out of the mat room. It isn’t a salutation. It isn’t a sportsmanly gesture of respect. It isn’t any reference to water under the bridge, the way it might look like in print. It’s a command.

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“See you in the showers.”

And Goren shakes off the ass kicking he just took and trucks his magnificent, muscled ass right after little Richie Douglas.

And the Nominees Are…

As anticipated, BG East has posted their poll for the Bestie awards, recognizing the fan favorites for their wrestlers and matches featured in 2015. Drake and I did our pre-scout report last week, but now that we have the actual nominees in hand, I wanted to do a quick comparison in the interest of aiding voters in making the best choices. I’ll just stick to the individual categories because you only have until midnight this Friday to submit your votes.  First up, lets take a look at the faces of the nominees for Top Babyface.

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Biff Farrell (my pick)
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Richie Douglas
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Chet Chastain (Drake’s pick)
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Jake Jenkins – Defending Top Babyface 3 years in a row!
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Pete Sharp

Next up, let’s compare the awesome abs nominated for Best Abs of 2015.

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Lon Dumont (my pick)
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Cal Bennett
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Chet Chastain
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Pete Sharp
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Z-Man (Defending Best Abs of 2014)
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Kip Sorell

I’m not the first person to note that a prominent 2-time champion of the Best Abs Bestie was not nominated this year, despite appearing on the mats in 2015 for BG East. I don’t know if the academy intentionally snubbed Eli Black, or if there was a calculated judgment that Eli’s killer abs were truly out distanced by the 6 lovely, lean hunks above.  In any case, just a look at the abs that are not in contention this year…

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Eli Black – shut out of the nominations for 2015 Best Abs

I’ll take a look at the field for Best Body and Best Bulge tomorrow…

The Doctor is In

I get off on character development (among other things). Heel turns. Rookies graduating into sophomores. Cocky mat masters completely humiliated when they try to take that shit into the ring. The evolution of a pro wrestling character is the perfect antidote for what can be (is by necessity?) typically formulaic sets of taunts and holds culminating in a crowing victor flexing over top of his vanquished opponent.

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Ripped Goldenboy Austin Cooper

If anyone is keeping me guessing these days, it’s Austin Cooper. I’ve been a fan since I first saw him at Rock Hard Wrestling. These days, you can sample his goods (“fantastics”) at RHW, BG East, and Thunder’s Arena (wrestling as Frey). Austin’s most recent BG East release, Muscle Rookies, highlighted for me just how effectively he has muscled his golden physique into my erotic imagination with an element that can be too often lacking in this genre: suspense.

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5’9″, 210 lbs., Muscle Rookie Adam Atom

Austin’s opponent is the titular muscle rookie, Adam Atom. Another Thunder’s Arena alum, Adam is built like a Mac truck. Everything about this kid is phenomenally thick. If there’s any justice in the world, the homoerotic wrestling gods have blessed Adam with a beer can cock to compliment his tree trunk thighs, bubble butt, barrel chest and that neck that I’m pretty sure is thicker than my waist.

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Adam owns Austin on the mats.

A former very successful amateur wrestler, Adam tears it up on the mats. More precisely, he tears Austin up.  This is fantastic storytelling for my tastes. Austin’s initial BG East match was Ripped Rookies, in which he and fellow RHW muscle buddy Jake Jenkins went from good natured buddy wrestling to sweat soaked strip and spank wrestling with the studied deliberateness and pacing of grapplers much more experienced. There was something privileged and too, too pretty about Austin back then that made me announce that, although he finally trashed Jake decisively, it was JJ’s consistent, raw, intense sell (not to mention his coverboy face) that grabbed me. Joe at Ringside at Skull Island announced he was on team Coop, while I signed up for team JJ.

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Hello, Dr. Cooper!

Not that I didn’t fully appreciate Austin. There’s something of an intensely sensual comic book superhero about him that’s sensational. But I have to say it wasn’t until around Demolition 16 that I really found myself captivated by the goldenboy. Not surprisingly, the subtitle for Demo 16 is “Austin’s Heel Turn.” Shedding the stars and stripes trunks and turning decisively vicious and sadistic, I found myself mulling over a membership card for team Coop.

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Dr. Cooper “treated” the bloody nose he gave Richie Douglas by suspending him in a tree of woe and stomping the ripped rookie’s abs in Gutbash 11.

It may just be the random sequencing of releases from BG East, but since then, Austin has gone back and forth between saccharine babyface hero and truly vile heel. The narrative in the web text has argued that the goldenboy had some sort of mental break, a dissociative episode in which two crazy hot wrestling hunks were born within the same powerful, bulging, aesthetically beautiful body. If it’s Austin who climbs into the ring these days, he’ll be handsome and clever and awesomely athletic and, most likely, get thrashed by a cunning heel who eats babyface beauties for breakfast. If it’s “Dr. Cooper” who climbs through the ropes, he’ll be unnecessarily vicious. He’ll break all the rules just to make a point. He’ll laugh out loud when he makes an opponent cry out, whimper, or even on occasion bleed. In a better world, we could see Austin face off against (and get fucked over) by Dr. Cooper. In this world, we’re left with the mystery of discovering which of the sensational studs it will be showing up with each new match.

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Handing Austin’s ass to him makes Adam Atom get cocky.

I mentioned that everything about Adam Atom seems thick and juicy (including that outrageously kitschy ring name!). The muscled fireplug demonstrates that, at least at this point in his career, he’s just a little thick in the head, as well. While it’s true that he completely OWNS Austin’s sensational ass on the mats (Dr. Cooper is nowhere in sight), Adam smirks at Austin’s suggestion that “if only” they’d met in the ring, the story would have gone completely differently. “See, I can do anything I want with you!” Adam taunts with a liberal dose of double entendre.  “I’m unstoppable here. I’ll be an unstoppable pro!” Something visibly comes over Austin. I swear, you can just about see that dissociative switch thrown. He peels out of his golden singlet and challenges the muscle rookie to take this shit to the ring. Adam agrees, not recognizing that there’s an entirely different opponent standing in front of him now, in green and yellow trunks and with a complete disregard for common decency. This is the goldenboy turned mad doctor who has forgotten more about mat wrestling than Adam will ever learn about the ring. Adam assumes that his mat success translates directly into pro ring skill. Oh, you hot, thick, ripe for the picking muscle rookie.

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Things look a little different in the ring, now, don’t they Adam?

Dr. Cooper paces the ring like a starving puma eying an oblivious buck. Adam is game for this, but Coop milks this home field advantage for everything its worth. There’s more geography here than in the mat room. There are ropes and corner posts that the cocky rookie is just getting introduced to. Unfortunately for him, it’s Coop making the introductions.

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A surprising, expertly applied camel clutch makes me wonder who may be initiating whom?

Adam does an impressive job hanging with the beautiful, shining, golden heel for a while. I don’t know where the fuck an amateur learns how to smack on a gorgeous, spine snapping camel clutch like that, but I have to assume Adam has either been a longtime fan of mainstream pro, or he’s secretly had some pointers from one of BG East’s many background coaches. There’s a moment here where I’m wondering if all of that total humiliation on the mat is about to repress Dr. Cooper behind the veil, leaving only goldenboy Austin to get his big beautiful ass handed to him by nothing but a rookie.

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Doctor’s orders: just apply pressure.

But no. A little offense from the rook just brings out the best in Coop. The gorgeous heel targets the rookie’s testicles for special attention. Low blows drive home the lesson that this isn’t mat wrestling, Adam. Being big man on campus doesn’t amount to shit when you step into the ring for the first time against a seasoned pro wrestler who we’ve watched develop an obvious fetish for inflicting ring torture. You’re fast on the mats, Adam?  Getting your balls crushed mercilessly into the ring post will slow you down.

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Coop is all over the rookie’s powerful, impotent muscles.

Dr. Cooper on a roll is a magnificent thing to watch. The mixture of veteran ring skills and mouthwatering thrill at ripping an opponent to shreds is sensational. It’s not like I don’t know that Austin has it in him to bear down like a hurricane all over a slack jawed rook. It’s just, I don’t know whether it’ll be goldenboy Austin or dark and dangerous Dr. Cooper showing up when I sit down with a new release.  Will this be the awesome telling of the destruction of a pumped up muscle rookie by a sly, sadistic heel, or will this be the thrilling upset of a seasoned veteran babyface by a completely green but devastating rookie savant?

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Abdominal surgery.

I hope that poor Adam Atom isn’t turned off to future BG East appearances. The powerhouse rookie gets the full treatment from Dr. Cooper, and sometimes cocky jocks fresh off the mats have relatively delicate egos when it comes to being initiated into the high impact homoerotic pro wrestling world. But he calls to mind BG East classic Buster, who, perhaps ironically, needed only one name to Adam’s redundant two. And if Adam can have even half the homoerotic wrestling success and fans of Buster, he’ll be a major player. And best news of all, Adam: BG East practically NEVER books rematches.

And the nominees are…

There’s been some confusion about the BG East Best of 2014 poll. For the record, it is still open, and will remain so until midnight tomorrow night, February 8. You can find the poll through the homepage by clicking on the “All 2014 Releases” button and then clicking the poll banner at the top of the page, or simply click here to go to the poll directly.

Let’s take a look at a few more categories.  What defines a babyface is fiercely debated among some wrestling fans. When I’m thinking of babyfaces (which is often), I’m picturing a wrestler who is eye-catchingly beautiful, earnest, optimistic, trusting in the rules of wrestling and human decency to make the wrestling ring an honest to god contest of strength and technical skill.  A babyface is stoked to be cheered and admired. He expresses contempt for vile evil doers who take short cuts and disregard rules and good sportsmanship. As I look at the field of BG East Bestie nominees for Top Babyface of 2014, that’s the standard I’m holding up to each of this sizzling hot leading men. Let’s take a look at who’s in the running.

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Kip Sorell certainly has “dazzlingly beautiful” down to perfection. He’s also earnest and eager. Kip jobs so blindingly fast, it’s hard to tell exactly what his take is on things like “rules,” because he’s typically flat on his back and reeling within seconds of the start of a match. He does wear white to perfection, though, which seems very true-to-babyface.
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Zach Reno (left) surprises with yet another appearance in the 2014’s poll, despite only appearing in one match (and a tag team bout, at that). He clearly made a huge impression, and he’s already making fans swoon in 2015 with his hairier, hunkier rendition of the same Michelangelo’s David form he showed in 2014. But 2015 is not 2014. Was he best babyface in 2014?
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Jake Jenkins has owned top babyface two years running, and he’s back to slap down the opposition yet again. It’s hard to argue that JJ fits the babyface typology to perfection, particularly when he slides that hot bod inside American flag trunks, as he did in 2014. Heroic, earnest, banking on strength, skill, speed, and flexibility to overcome dirty tricks. Hard to beat!
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Is it too soon for 2014 newbie Richie Douglas to make a full fledged run for Top Babyface? I’m torn, because the rockin’, ripped boy next door is achingly beautiful, straight up sincere, facing down long odds like a hot jock who’s never heard of a short cut. I think his stock is rapidly on the rise, but has he owned Top Babyface already?
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3-time homoerotic wrestler of the month Denny Cartier makes me weak in the knees with his dimpled chin, bulging pecs, and full frontal offense. Has he ever, ever even bent a rule or been anything less than aggressively sportsmanlike? He’s not superhuman, but he’s somehow intensely, potently, powerfully, vulnerably human, heroic, and gorgeous.

For me, this category comes down to the tried and true, solidly developed babyface characters of Jake Jenkins and Denny Cartier.  I think JJ’s momentum and unblinkingly fanatic fan base makes him the top contender for the popular vote, but my personal vote is finally leaning Denny’s way. JJ has an edge to him in some matches, a cocky, smirking, I’ll-go-as-low-down-as-you-dare-me-to attitude, whereas Denny just clenches that Clark Kent jaw and dishes out due respect almost every time. And in 2014 he had the distinction of taking that upright intensity to introduce Lon Dumont to mat wrestling, including finally getting bulldozed by the notorious pro heel. The dark horse who could defy the odds this year I think may be Kip Sorrel. I’m always a little surprised not to hear more buzz about the living Ken doll, so I’m wondering if there’s a silent majority out there just waiting to make Kip upend JJ.

Now let’s turn our attention to the category of Best Squash. This is a category that instantly turns off some fans who just don’t enjoy one-sided crushings. I, however, am not that type of fan.  I fucking love gasping, dangerous maulings when both the pitcher and catcher sell it with enthusiasm.  I think we have some notable contenders and, perhaps, some surprising absences in this year’s slate.

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In Demolition 18, Guido Genatto so overhwlemed newbie Kirk Donahue in his doomed debut that the babyface punk literally tried to crawl on his belly from the ring to escape his brutalizer. Amazing sell. Total squash. Crotch tingling one-sided brutality.
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Jonny Firestorm is tried and true in dishing out squashes, having won last year for grinding jobber Drake Marcos into a pulp (I so know that feeling). This time, he turned his tornado offense on Nicholas Rush in Demolition 17. Classic heel-in-charge Jonny nearly beheading and breaking into pieces long, lean Nicholas. Squash!
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Another Demolition 18 match featured Flash LaCash taking pro muscle mayhem to the task of trashing the fuck out of Jake Jenkins. Flash made the most of JJ’s superhuman flexibility and endurance, twisting and tying the unlucky acrobat into some gravity defying holds I’ve never seen before. JJ screams. Flash laughs. Incredibly hot squash.
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In Jobberpaloozer 13, Austin Cooper literally broke newbie Leo Tomasi’s nose and laughed at the blood trickling out the lean stud’s nostrils. “Dr. Cooper” (as he dubbed himself) decided the medically advisable treatment was to hang the hot rook upside down in a tree of woe and keep on fucking him up. I love Dr. Cooper the heel, and Leo brought out one of the most magnificent crushings from him.
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Both Guido Genatto and Jake Jenkins are nominated in other products in this same category, which I think may very well split the votes of their most loyal fans. Guido’s mauling of JJ in Demolition 17 was spine tingling to watch, and Guido treated us frequently with glimpses of JJ’s bare ass with trunk pulls. Sensational squash, but was it best?

Two matches from Demo 17, two from Demo 18, and JJ and Guido showing up in multiple contenders? Very complex field to try to handicap.  Personally, I’m going with the one and only non-Demo entry, because Dr. Cooper and Leo Tomasi owned me hardest and truly surprised me when I noticed how hot I found it to see Leo bleed. Dr. Cooper is an incredible heel, perhaps made more so by the distance he’s traveled since his heel turn. Honestly, I’m not sure at all how to predict where the majority may lean in this one with all of the overlaps, so I’m going out on a limb and saying I think the majority (and the hardcore Coop fans) will swing the vote the same way I’m going, with Jobberpaloozer 13. I’m also demonstrating the size of my balls by saying I think Jonny v Nicholas is a serious underdog this year.  I have to also note that all of these Best Squash contenders are ring matches from just 3 products. What happened to Passion & Punishment 1, with Mason Brooks spanking Drake Marcos like the naughty boy his is, which may have been the most satisfying squash of the year in my book?

Now for the newest category in the BG East Besties, the vote for “Best Submissions in One Match.”  I struggled with the variable construct of this category. It’s not “most submissions,” though I suppose some could vote with that interpretation. It’s not the best “submission” in a match, because the nominees aren’t specific submissions, but the matches themselves. It’s also hard to miss the fact that the nominees for Best Squash line up very closely with nominees for “Best Submissions in One Match,” making me think the nominating committee also lacked a little clarity in the scope and range of this debut category.

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Jonny is the master of innovative submissions, so I totally buy the entry of Demolition 17, Jonny v Nicholas Rush here. Jonny, indeed, brought his inspiring understanding and mastery of human anatomy to ripping Nicholas apart and tearing one panicked submission after another out of him. This crotch-ripping, knee-wrenching, kneeling toe hold (what the fuck do you call this!?) is stunningly sexy wrestling sculpture. Hot, hot, hot submission.
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Submissions fly like a flock of sparrows when Cameron Matthews and Lorenzo Jake Lowe bring their deep arsenals of submission holds to Submissions 9. Two of the most accomplished submission wrestlers on the books, Cam and LJL stretch themselves and each other beyond belief. The arch, the bulge, the sweat, the way Cam is ripping apart at least 6 joints simultaneously in this hold is, again, a work of art.
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Demolition 18’s match featuring Guido Genatto & Kirk Donahue makes another appearance, and there’s no denying Guido “welcomes” Kirk to BG East with a barrage of some of the most terrifying ring submissions ever. I particularly love this choking backbreaker, with Guido leaning his face up close to Kirk’s cheek to hear the newbie gasp out panicked submissions over and over.
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Most submissions in one match may, arguably, have to be awarded to Wet & Wild 7, but that’s because 6 wrestlers were involved in every variety and pairing. Trey Dixon and Mason Brooks are specifically called out from this product for the nomination in this category, and I totally agree that these two hot bodied hunks put each other through some of the sexiest submission holds on record. This particular shot of Mason nearly knocked out cold in face-to-crotch headscissors, with Mason going limp right about the time Trey looks like he’s mid-orgasm, is one of the hottest submissions I can remember.
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Guido Genatto played Jake Jenkins’ hot, flexible body like a pipe organ in Demolition 17. JJ’s determination to go up against massively muscled indy pro veterans is hot (and more evidence of why he’s a 2-time Top Babyface winner), and Guido is a maestro of ring submissions. This leg lock, with JJ’s boots trapped against his groin, as backdrop for a neck-breaking chinlock is simply fantastic.

So I’m choosing to dole out my vote for this category based on particular submissions (to be specific, the one’s I’ve highlighted above). If it were “most innovative submissions,” I’d easily vote for Jonny & Nicholas. If it were most terrifying submissions, I’d probably take Guido and Kirk. I’m picking the best submission as in the one that I found sexiest, the one that recurred in my early morning wet dreams, the one that I replayed in real life and in my fantasies most, which was, for me, Trey Dixon’s poolside face-to-crotch orgasmic headscissors. Since the category itself seems spongy to me, predicting a winner is tough, but I’m thinking Cameron Matthews and LJL’s fans will swing this their way. I think the longest shot is Guido and Kirk, both because Guido fans will be split and because Kirk is such a new commodity.

So the Bard-approved ballot as it stands now looks like this:

Best Abs: Lon Dumont

Best Bulge: Pete Sharp

Best Butt: Kid Karisma

Best Body: Kid Karisma

Sexiest Match: Passion & Punishment 1 – Trey Dixon v Skrapper

Best Mat Match: Passion & Punishment 1 – Drake Marcos brought to whimpering tears by Mason Brooks

Best Ring Match: Tag Team Torture 17 – Dumont/Baynard v Reno/Walsh

Best Debut: Ty Alexander

Top Babyface: Denny Cartier

Best Squash: Jobberpaloozer 13 – Austin Cooper v Leo Tomasi

Best Submissions in One Match: Wet & Wild 7 – Trey Dixon’s face-to-crotch headscissors on Mason Brooks