Striving for Perfection

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19

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: numbers are sexy. Take the numbers 19, 26, 7 and 3. That’s the number of inches around Joey Nux-Justice’s upper arms, inches around his upper legs, times Joey bashes Ronnie’s back into a turnbuckle, and times I’ve gotten off on watching Joey and Ronnie pound it out in the ring for Wrestler4Hire.

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Reaching for perfection

Of course, when I say “pound it out,” I’m referring to Joey tenderizing Ronnie like a stubborn cut of beef.  “You think you have the perfect body,” Ronnie muses, arriving to find Joey measuring his bulges and shoving them in our faces. “Well, I think I’m the perfect wrestler,” Ronnie explains. “So how about we wrestle and figure out who’s perfect?” It’s a classic narcissist bodybuilder meets savvy pro heel scenario, with a sensational twist, namely that the bodybuilder beats the living fuck out of the veteran pro wrestler.

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What gum chewing deserves

Both Joey and Ronnie get a little ire from me. One of my pet peeves is a wrestler chewing gum in a match, so I’m hating on Ronnie the moment he steps into the ring and starts gnawing on the wad in his mouth. It’s too casual. It feels disrespectful to the audience. It makes me want to see his opponent slap him so hard his gum flies out, then pick up up, shove it down the front of his trunks, and force the gum back down Ronnie’s throat on the tip of his cock. As far as I’m concerned, a wrestler chewing gum in the ring needs to suffer that much more bitterly for the faux pas.

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Joey is all about the optics

On the other hand, there’s Joey, who persistently digs his wedgied trunks out from between his muscled ass cheeks throughout the match. This is less a matter of respect than it is just a stubborn refusal to satisfy an audience that wants to appreciate every nook and crevice of his gorgeous physique. I typically root against a wrestler, particularly a gorgeous specimen like Joey, who keeps stretching his trunks to cover up his cheeks.

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Ronnie screams. A lot.

So I suppose I start the match a little ambivalent about who I want to get thrashed more. But that question is quickly resolved as Joey assertively grabs Ronnie by the wrist and flings his back crashing into a turnbuckle. Perhaps if Ronnie hadn’t been caught flat footed from the start, this would have been a more competitive match. I know for a fact Ronnie’s got more moves than MJ, and 9 days out of 10 he’s a devastating ring tactician. But Joey injures him early, and then often, and unlike 9 out of 10 rookies, Joey doesn’t relent for a second until Ronnie is screaming like a bitch and writhing at his feet.

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All about the back

It’s mostly about breaking Ronnie’s back. The Irish whips corner to corner make Ronnie’s knees buckle out from under neath him. The body slams over and over and over again reduce the handsome pro to a quivering, screaming, drooling puddle. Bearhugs, torture racks, a camel clutch and Boston crab all concentrate every overpowering muscle on Joey on the task of fucking up Ronnie’s spine. The only thing missing, and don’t think I didn’t notice, is an OTK backbreaker to show off Ronnie’s hot, packed bulge.

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“You have something to say to me?” Joey asks.

“Are you sure you wanna wrestle?” Joey asks, mostly rhetorically. He doesn’t really wait for an answer, even if he expected one. He’s come such a long way since his debut MDW match in which he tearfully confessed that “I don’t really wrestle, man.” He’s no Ronnie Pearl, but fuck, he does a sensational impression of an assertive, aggressive, confident muscle pro with something to prove. “You have something to say to me,” he demands, holding Ronnie by a fistful of hair and shouting in his whimpering face.

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Ronnie dials it up to 11

The match feels like a solid intent to put Joey over. It’s all about Joey. It’s about his gorgeous muscles and power. It’s about his shocking dismantling of a seasoned pro. It’s about his cocky swagger and deafening gun show. If anything, Ronnie oversells his suffering, which is not nearly the mortal sin that underselling is. Either way, Ronnie gets reduced to impotence by a gorgeous hunk of a man bigger and, as it turns out, badder than he is. Joey never needs to plead, humiliatingly, “I don’t really wrestle, man,” anymore, which feels like the story arc of this match.

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But as for me, I’m mostly infatuated with watching Ronnie. I’ve been entranced by him for years, since I first saw him climb into the ring with his long mane of curly locks, his smoking  hot body, and an obvious feeling of being right at home in a pro wrestling ring. He has decidedly improved from that stellar starting point with age and experience. He has the best head of hair in wrestling, as far as I’m concerned (maybe that’ll be a year-end award for 2018). I’m skeptical of most beards on wrestlers, but there’s a classic Steve Reeves-does-Hercules look about Ronnie that makes me crush on him even more. His muscles are certainly not as huge as Joey’s. He’s not a competitive bodybuilder. But line Joey and Ronnie up and let me have 57 minutes to do what I want with their naked bodies, and no shit, I’m giving even stunning Joey a hard pass to get my hands on Ronnie.

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I call dibs on that ass!

Ronnie’s absolute obliteration at the hands of the muscle-newbie shows off his smooth, gorgeously proportioned body from every angle. He twists and writhes, flexes and stretches, until the camera has treated us to a detailed inspection of pretty much everything one can see with Ronnie’s trunks still on his body. His ass, in particular, makes me push rewind often. There’s something effortlessly sexy and infinitely fuckable about his black clad ass cheeks that incite intrusive images of me pounding him doggie style, my hips wet-slapping into his beautiful butt.

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Not where you expect to find a seasoned pro heel

The longer I enjoy homoerotic wrestling, the more I realize how much I enjoy these comeuppance moments when a terrifyingly destructive heel gets shocked, awed, and owned. The humiliation is that much more poignant. His screams and begging and sobs make my crotch twitch that much more persistently. “You have something to say to me,” Joey asks, getting up in the heel’s agony-twisted face. “You said you wanted to wrestle, right,” he taunts the crushed and helpless hottie, driving home the powerful plot point that a devastating pro heel is getting his fuckable ass handed to him because 1) it turns out overpowering muscles can be pretty useful, even on a ring rookie, and 2) gay wrestling fans like me want to see an invincible, straight-laced, handsome hunk like Ronnie witness his body and his illusions shatter before him.

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I really wrestle, man!

In the end, even my skeptical self has to admit that Joey could actually be a player on the scene. He’s got some moves that a decently equipped opponent can sell solidly. He’s obviously got the pin-up boy angle entirely covered. Bring on more Joey.

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Fuck, I love Ronnie in jeopardy!

But as for Ronnie Pearl, please, oh please, keep me guessing. My infatuation with him is only enhanced by the possibility that he could, on a given day, get the shit kicked out of him and get his gorgeous body pried apart and laid out like a Thanksgiving turkey. Or he could dazzle and destroy like a cruise missile. I love the suspense almost as much as I adore his quivering ass cheeks.

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Hold him right there for me, Joey!

Honey-Dipped Returns

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I have a fan crush on Ronnie Pearl.

The third match in Austin Cooper’s unprecedented third Wrestler Spotlight release from BG East pits the golden boy against Ronnie Pearl. This is only Ronnie’s second BGE match, and I, for one, have been anxiously awaiting his return to the ring. His debut against Cybertron in Ringwars 21 a couple of years ago was a massacre. It was one of those pro matches where I catch myself thinking, “Oh fuck, that’s got to be a trip to the emergency room!” To call it a mismatch would be like calling a 2×4 a mismatch for the buzzsaw that sliced it in two. Ronnie was a full half a foot shorter and a mind-boggling 65 pounds lighter than his muscle monster opponent, and the newbie’s fancy footwork and eager earnestness amounted to a steaming pile of shit in the face of Cyberton’s devastating power, maniacal mercilessness, and surprisingly high quality pro wrestling skill.

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Cybertron ripped Ronnie apart!!!

But, fuck, I had a total fan crush on Ronnie before it was time to scrape his hot, muscled bod off the mat. Damn, he’s beautiful! He’s sensationally fit, muscled up just enough to combine serious power with fantastic fitness and flexibility. He’s crazy handsome, with lush, thick lips that scream for kissing. And yes, I saved the best for last, Ronnie’s luxurious mane of long, curly hair calls to mind an 80’s glam rocker, just as it demands to get pulled and yanked and stepped on in the low down trenches of a muscle monster heel beat down. And he had flair. He had timing. He had an excellent ring presence, and without muttering more than about 3 syllables the entire match (other than his incoherent screams of panicked agony), Ronnie presented a full, three dimensional character profile with nuance and panache.

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Dangerously Beautiful, meet Dangerously Beautiful

My review of that match concluded where this one starts off: wanting to see much, much more of Ronnie Pearl. Unlike his ill-fated outing against Cybertron, this match up against Austin, going full-on babyface, is, on the surface, pretty even. They’re almost exactly the same height and weight. At first glance, they’re about equally as fit, tastefully muscled, and pretty. When they approach the ring from opposite directions, they play up the precisely matched pair they make, climbing into the ring in synchronized, mirror image mode, checking each other out with equal coolness and calculation. For Austin, Ronnie is another in a long line of hot, hardbodied hunks vying for the expansive piece of real estate that Austin has claimed as his own as resident hard-hitting, prettyboy heart throb. For Ronnie, Austin must look like lunch meat compared to the massive, terminator style cyborg who pounded Ronnie into jelly the last time he climbed into this ring.

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Ronnie quickly takes Austin for a ride.

The promise of experienced, confident pro wrestlers who can wrestle skillfully and both look like babyface superheroes while doing it is aptly met in this match. The BGE website explains Ronnie’s obvious experience and mature ring presence, despite his rookie status at BG East, as evidence of Ronnie’s valedictorian performance at a regional wrestling school a couple of years back. Wherever it comes from, his decisive speed and crippling offense is a work of art. Particularly after having just moments earlier seen Austin run circles all over, around, under and on top of his mat opponent in the previous match, it’s incredible to see Ronnie strike like lightning on the goldenboy. Seconds after the bell rings (very pro), Ronnie ducks behind and gut wrenches his opponent off his feet, slamming Coop like a sack of flour. In a flash, Ronnie is on his back, spinning around almost faster than the eye can track, and significantly faster than Austin can defend.  Again, if you watch this DVD straight through (allowing for significant opportunities to jerk off several times along the way), you will have just seen Austin do this same swarming, dominating display spinning like a top on Jake Ryder’s sweaty backside.

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Ronnie is out to cripple the reigning golden boy.

So Austin isn’t going to have a leg up in speed. And despite the face value differential in documented ring experience, he also does not have any sizable advantage in technical skill. Ronnie is methodical in executing a vicious, masterfully executed offense. His wristlock drops Austin, gasping, to one knee. The wristlock advances up the arm into an armbar, twisting savagely on the goldboy’s elbow joint. The wild haired hottie works it viciously, twisting and bearing down with is bodyweight until Coop is flat on the mat and wailing like a wounded animal. Then with shocking deliberateness, Ronnie hops up on his fingertips and then rains down a series of nasty knee drops into Coop’s bicep. A completely gratuitous slap to the face shocks Coop out of the moment, but then Ronnie’s crank into a hammerlock shoves the goldboy right back into the cold, hard truth that Ronnie Pearl very well may be about to, fair and square, beat the living fuck out of him.

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Ronnie might want to think twice about initiating a hair pulling match.

Happily, Austin has an answer or two for Ronnie’s savage romp. When the wild haired hunk starts to drive Coop’s gorgeous face for a pounding into the turnbuckle, Austin muscle blocks him and effectively counters with a momentum sucking elbow strike to the gut. In the spirit of “anything you can do,” Austin grabs a huge fistful of Ronnie’s gorgeous long locks and crushes that sensational kisser I was just talking about into the same turnbuckle that Ronnie had tried to mess up Coop with.

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Ronnie uses the ropes to devastating effect.

The match spins quickly into seriously nasty shit. So fast, Ronnie celebrates dropping Coop to the mat with a sucker knee-lift to the lower gut by promptly standing ON Austin’s throat and pulling on the nearby rope to crush Coop that much more savagely underfoot.

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Two can play the game of using the ropes to devastating effect.

Not to be outdone in viciousness, Coop starts with a standard knee lock that makes his opponent scream. Austin’s sensational upper body bulges and strains as he leverages all of that mouthwatering muscle to hyperextend Ronnie’s knee. Seamlessly, Coop rolls him to his stomach and transitions into a single leg crab on that same knee. Ronnie is already screaming like bitch, but Coop has one more plot point to drive home. He drags Ronnie to the edge of the ring and ducks outside, draping that same, assaulted leg over the middle rope. Suddenly, Coop hangs there, his whole 180 pounds ripping Ronnie’s tendons and ligaments apart while the wild child SCREAMS!

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Austin puts Ronnie’s gorgeous ass in jeopardy.

If you’re like me, and you enjoy a suspenseful match, tuck in. Either Ronnie or Austin could pull this off convincingly, and the meaner they get, the more I can believe that they both want it just as much as the other. In the end, they both work off the same playbook, each of them targeting exactly one particular knee of the other to fuck up until only one of them can stand, much less continue to fight, much less walk away from the ring with his dignity intact.

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Ronnie is determined to break that leg off completely at the knee!

The final submission is screaming and desperate. I genuinely think this may be another one of those emergency room matches by the sound of anguish. But the hot, muscled, magnificently handsome mugger does not give a shit by this point in the raging boil of egos. “Winner!” he points to his own pretty face and sweat soaked, worship-worthy muscle body, before strolling victoriously out of the ring and leaving his opponent severely damaged in his wake.

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Someone very well may need knee surgery before the day is out.

God, this match is intense and riveting! The drama is compelling. The competition is raw and believable. The bodies are absolutely gorgeous. And, like I said last time I fell in lust with Ronnie Pearl, the only thing that might make this hotter would be a bottle of honey and my tongue licking every bulge and crevice.

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Oh, fuck, I want to be this glam rocker’s top groupie!