It’s not uncommon for me to get distracted over the course of a month and forget to sing the praises of my reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month as much as I intend. Before January slips away entirely, I just want to sit back and marvel at the Academy Award statue model that we so breathlessly call Trey “Oscar” Dixon.
Of course, Trey handily laid claim to the title of HWOTM with his fantastically revealing gear fetish work in Gear Wars 4. The prototypical and quite literal golden boy was bedecked sequentially in metallic gold tights and a luchador mask, a mustard yellow suction packed singlet, perfectly packaged golden designer undergear, a jock strap and, finally, gaspingly, tauntingly, absolutely nothing at all. From fashion show to wrestling ring to wrestling mat, Trey kept my heart racing from start to finish in Gear Wars 4.
“Oscar’s” fairly brief tenure thus far with BG East (or any homoerotic wrestling company, as far as I can tell) displays an impressive aptitude for dominating wrestling and full throttle erotic intrigue. From the pool to the wrestling mat, Trey’s phenomenal physique and hypnotically blue eyes have demonstrated that he can both lull an opponent into lowering his guard and turn around and put a major hurt on him. His work taking Mason Brooks to the very limit in Wet & Wild 7 won him another reign as HWOTM last summer, and when I’m hard pressed for inspiration, his fully flexed bod and orgasmic face applying that poolside face-to-crotch headscissor on Mason absolutely never fails.
It was Trey’s encounter with Skrapper, though, that really catapulted him into the upper echelons of my infatuation. I have occasionally complained about the less than explicit homoeroticism in so much of homoerotic wrestling today. Like a dickslap in the face, Trey’s combat with Skrapper in Passion & Punishment 1 pushed all my buttons at once. Very, very seldom have I seen a rookie so fully committed to bringing sexy to the mat, so much so that I have no trouble at all believing Trey gets it, deep down and hard as bedrock, in a way that I intuit a lot of very entertaining homoerotic wrestlers only approximate. Skrapper also gets it, and I’ve spilled gallons of ink and other fluids on marveling at the hotline he has to my crotch. So no wonder a savant rookie hardbodied hunk like Trey paired with never, ever, ever say die brutalist who gets off on pain of any sort (giving, receiving, hell, I bet just watching) Skrapper pegged the thermometer at too hot to believe. Trey’s stock is sky high and holding very steady in my attention, and I hope we continue to see much, much more of him. And if we do, I’d bet you money he’ll be back on the dais as HWOTM yet again.
This will surprise no one, but I begin today’s post with the premise that I like male bodies. A lot. I like them in a variety of incarnations, proportions, hues, and composition. There are certainly specific male bodies that I don’t like, but the collection of bodies that fall into the “like” category are varied.
Early in my exploration of the homoerotic wrestling universe (that sort of makes me feel like Captain Kirk), I found the Greenwood/Cooper produced video “Wrestle” in my enlightened “home video store” (wow, now I’m feeling old). I felt rather daring picking it up off the shelf and paying to rent the provocative VHS based on the promotional jacket.
The product description on the back reads, “Competition wrestlers, pitted against each other in combat, strain their tight, sinewy, well-muscled bodies and their indomitable wills to bring you an experience of unequaled beauty and force.” Uh, yeah. This was at a time when I was a lot more cautious about outing myself, but there was no way I wasn’t going to slap down $3 to study this work of art for every second of the 3 day rental. I’m pretty sure I skipped at least a couple of my graduate school classes to get every penny’s worth out of “Wrestle.” It was soft core, set in and beside Roman baths. The wrestlers were young and gorgeous. As I remember, the wrestling pairs started in posing straps or towels wrapped around their waists, but most of the action was entirely naked, presenting for anyone who appreciates the male body 6 spectacular specimens entirely unadorned and videographed in intimate, up close detail. The combat was highly stylized, severely restricted by tile mosaic floors. It came across to me like perfectly pitched performance art, presenting my deepest fantasies in fantastical and inciting beauty.
I strongly suspect that were I to set down with “Wrestle” again, I wouldn’t be nearly as awed as I was in those early days. My homoerotic wrestling library needs a new wing built onto my home these days, and the novelty that made me dizzy in soaking in “Wrestle” many years ago just isn’t as compelling for me today, in and of itself. Then I again, whether or not it’s the nostalgia talking, I think I may try to track it down again, if for no other reason than sometimes what I really, really want to watch is two beautiful, powerful, entirely naked male bodies locked in combat. And surprisingly, considering the size of my library, it isn’t always easy to find.
I think Naked Kombat comes closest to stoking that nostalgia I feel as I think about my experience of discovering “Wrestle.” When the NK pornboys finally rip each other’s gear off and go to town entirely naked, there’s a depth of intimacy and vulnerability that makes the physical combat that much more captivating as a spectator. Naked Kombat is hardcore, however, and the artistry and beauty so appropriately named in the product description of “Wrestle” take a back seat (or perhaps just tenuously being towed along in a trailer far behind) to the sex and fury. Not that I don’t get off on NK sex and fury frequently. But NK is a different breed than “Wrestle.”
Some homoerotic wrestling producers manage to capture the “beauty and force” that “Wrestle” managed, but steer clear of the daring genre of pitting their wrestlers against one another naked. Rock Hard Wrestling, Movimus, and Thunder’s Arena come to mind, playing on the relative innocence and innuendo of old school soft core like “Wrestle.” Thunder’s is playful and specializes in beautiful muscle, but their playfulness and tongue-in-cheek score low on the earnestness meter. RHW’s commitment to video production quality makes me think more of the earnestness of the camera angles in “Wrestle.” Both “Wrestle” director Kurthy and the production crew at RHW clearly have a commitment to artistically document the living sculpture that is beautiful male bodies grappling. But a full 20 years after “Wrestle” was produced, RHW does so with a more demure tack, letting the homoeroticism be conveyed primarily by the viewing eyes, and not stepping into the hetero-iconoclastic territory of full-on naked bodies.
Can-Am and BG East both feature naked wrestlers, and again, both get my engine running hot. However, neither of the big boys in the business tweak that nostalgia (or stroke the still valid sweet spot) that “Wrestle” did. Like NK, Can-Am tends to cast pornboys, and the naked chapter of the combat is too often all too briefly sandwiched between geared wrestling and the post-match fucking. Some of Can-Am’s Arena series featured the wrestlers in naked falls, but even as satisfying as it is, for example, watching Rusty Stevens and Aryx Quinn crushing one another nude, the surprisingly brief moment between combat and full throttle sexual content is simply a different animal than the hour or so of pure and simple naked wrestling in “Wrestle.”
BG East is always right in my wheelhouse for their earnestness, but theirs is an earnestness about the integrity of wrestling itself. “Wrestle” advertises as “competition wrestler pitted against each other in combat,” but BG East much more legitimately owns the current scene with regard to experienced, accomplished, enthusiastic wrestlers in their matches than just about anyone else producing (Cameron Matthews is making a strong play for that market lately, however). But I’m hard pressed to think of a BG East match that simply lets two “well-muscled bodies” wrestle naked for very long. In the new release, Gear Fetish 4, Skip Vance and Trey Dixon (current homoerotic wrestler of the month for this match) slowly trade for skimpier and skimpier gear until the last fall is fully naked. But that last fall lasts, what, 45 seconds? Not that I can blame the boys for being clearly driven to distraction by the full throttle fetish arousal they’d worked up to a lather by that point, but it’s not a “naked wrestling” product, in the sense I’m musing on today.
Nakedness does appear more frequently at Muscle Domination Wrestling lately, and there’s a particularly enticing teaser of Thunder’s Arena bodybuilder alums Mutant and Specimen appearing to be about to wrestle entirely naked in the ring in their upcoming season. MDW’s commitment to the narrative, though, along with a lower production quality than most of the producers today, makes me think that as surely as I will be pulling up a table to feast on naked bodybuilders grappling in Oil Hunks 4, it won’t quite tweak the “experience of unequaled beauty and force” that “Wrestle” did for me.
The more I muse, the more I think that I’m caught by nostalgia. It may have been less about Greenwood/Cooper’s “Wrestle” itself, or the 6 hot hunks who starred in it, or the setting or camera angles or lighting, than it was about me, 20 years ago, in a different time and place, with a different perspective, exploring something new and titillating and dangerous and novel. I’ll definitely have to find me a copy of “Wrestle” to sort this out. Then again, if I saw this DVD cover in a store today, I’d snap it up for 20 times the price I rented it 20 years ago.
I’ve been touched by some back channel lobbying for my homoerotic wrestler of the month title lately. I don’t flatter myself into believing that it really amounts to anything momentous, but it boosts my ego a bit to know that there are wrestlers and fans who care enough to make a pitch. As I repeat often, this is an entirely subjective honor that conveys nothing other than which wrestler appearing in a new release kept recurring in my waking homoerotic wrestling fantasies most, which wrestler inspired the rawest lust and the deepest satisfaction, which wrestler made me gasp, or laugh, or groan in such a way that, as I look back on the previous month’s new release, it’s his face (or other body parts) that keep showing up in my mind’s eye. Knowing full well that someone is instantly disappointed the moment I announce it, I humbly present my choice for December’s new release homoerotic wrestler of the month…
Regular readers will note that this is the second win for the golden fantasy man in just 6 months. Trey’s first snag of the crown as HWOTM came with his summer appearance in Wet & Wild 7. He moved his mouthwatering body inside for last month’s winter new release, Gear Wars 4. Facing the return of perennial jobber Skip Vance, Trey demonstrated once again why he has been setting the homoerotic wrestling scene and my crotch on fire in the relatively brief time his been in the business. He made me gasp, laugh and groan (and grow) in this December gear fetish themed confrontation, and he showed new depths to his full fledged citizenship in the the world of homoerotic wrestling.
It may not be the first time we’ve heard Trey speak on camera, but it’s the first time I remember savoring that slow, sweet Southern drawl as it drips like honey from his mouth. I believe Skip is an Arkansas boy, but I don’t know where ripped hunk Trey earned that luscious accent. His FB page says he’s from Los Angeles, but I’ve never met anyone from LA with as seductive a drawl as that. It isn’t just the quality of his voice that gets me either. He’s witty, clever, and deep down hungry, conveyed mostly in phenomenal body language peppered perfectly with a clear vocal narrative. His cocky banter paired with a throaty, eager craving to take full possession of Skip in one fantasy gear choice after another makes me laugh just a little, then silences me with his full throttle fetish sell.
The fashion show of Gear Wars 4 shows off Trey’s unbelievably sexy physique delightfully from start to full monty finish, but it’s that skin tight yellow singlet that made me literally gasp when Trey steps onto the BG East mat in it. I’m not the only one a little dizzy at the sight of the golden boy poured like chocolate milk inside that sensationally sexy singlet. Honestly, I think 9 hot wrestlers out of 10 couldn’t pull that singlet off (there’s a Friday Fashion poll in there somewhere, I’m sure), but Trey is nothing short of a vision of perfectly proportioned sex and wrestling in it. His vacuum packed package is hard to tear your eyes away from (and hard for Skip to refrain from grabbing reverently), but I swear there isn’t an inch of Trey that isn’t made that much sexier in this gear.
But it was the naked scramble near the end of this match that made me groan. A lot. Clearly staking out territory beyond his traditional jobber kingdom, Skip comes on stronger and harder the more of Trey’s mouthwatering skin he sees. I love this element of Skip driven to conquering success, despite his deep jobber cred, due to the enticing, intoxicating, alluring wonders of Trey’s 3% body fat, bronzed, beautiful, smooth, physique. I believe I’m correct in saying that every opponent Trey has faced has ended up sucking that face long and hard and giving every appearance of completely forgetting there’s a camera crew hovering nearby. Trey obviously doesn’t exactly resent inspiring a raging wrestling lust victory in his opponent, which makes me that much more infatuated with him. The moment at nearly the end of this match that Skip schoolboy pins his golden prey, reaching back and firmly grabbing hold of Trey’s perfectly bronzed meat says it all. Skip is as hard as a board and shockingly huge (I know I’ve seen him erect before, but damn it all if he doesn’t look way bigger than I ever remember). Gear on, off, on, off, on, off, on and off again has worked both lustful wrestlers into nothing short of a lather, and the fully naked, standing, inverted head scissors in which Trey hangs upside down, giving Skip unobstructed access to possess Trey’s cock hungrily, is my climax to this match.
Although I’ve been turned on like crazy by every match I’ve seen of Trey’s, this match truly surprised me on many counts, not the least of which is how supremely sexy his picture perfect body is from absolutely every angle and in and out of every gear genre. I’ve told a couple of friends recently that I’d give a kidney or two to pour honey all over that Academy Award statue that Trey calls his body and lick every inch of him. Slowly. What Skip’s imagination came up with after he dragged his trophy hunk from the mat room, we can only guess.
So for the second time in just 6 months, I’m enthusiastically studying every bulge and crevice and saying Trey Dixon is not only homoerotic wrestling perfection in Gear Wars 4, he’s also my new homoerotic wrestler of the month.
You know me. I enjoy some playful gear play in homoerotic wrestling as much as the next guy. Not as much as some of you, I know, but I’m intrigued and motivated by the concept of two gear fetish boys living out their fantasies in a winner gets to pick the next gear scenario. Trey Dixon and Skip Vance are intensely passionate to go to town on each other from the start in BG East’s new release Gear Wars 4. Fantasy manTrey apparently got to select the first fantasy gear: masks and tights for a sizzling hot ring beatdown. I fucking LOVE the temperature and pace as these two tear into each other, convincing me conclusively that they’re both stoked hotter and hotter by the fantasy gear itself, turning the high impact combat into sweet, sweet homoerotic wrestling. I’m completely turned on by both Trey and Skip groaning with pleasure when they enjoy riding time with a grope chaser. The momentum turns around a few times, but at face value, Trey is just too fucking big and strong to see this match up going anyway but his. And sure enough, strung up in the ropes and completely at his opponent’s mercy, Skip gets unmasked and forced to submit, giving Trey the next gear choice. But holy baby Jesus, I’m absolutely blown away by the sight of golden muscle boy Trey squeezed impossibly tightly into a yellow singlet. I mean, wow. I need to wipe some drool off of my chin. Other fluids are flowing as well. And clearly I’m not alone. Skip is momentarily speechless (and that’s saying something) as he stares slack jawed at this ripped, golden vision standing in front of him. I’m in awe of the mouthwatering beauty of Trey head to toe, but like Skip, I keep finding my eyes fixating on his tantalizing package suctioned into the pouch of that singlet.
That yellow singlet seems to inspire Skip to even more fervent offense, and if the ring action was delightfully erotic, the match combat is nothing short of full contact foreplay. Skip makes the most of every advantage he earns by squeezing and stroking the golden muscle boy with a hungry fierceness. As proxy for me and my wrestling imagination, Skip does a fine job of lustfully admiring Trey’s phenomenal physique from every angle.
The simpatico between Trey and Skip is stunning to watch. It’s not as if either wrestler is unaware of those moments of distraction they stumble into when one of them gets carried away with the eroticism. When Trey turns the tables on Skip, clearly aware of the blond boy’s carving to study every inch of Trey’s ripped bod, the golden boy sits on his chin and yanks on Skip’s hair to plant the punk’s mouth right between those stunningly hot, gorgeously muscled golden glutes. Honestly, I’m a little disappointed Skip didn’t say, “thank you!” Then again, he had a mouthful of meaty ass to choke on.
Skip scores a stunning submission on the goldenboy, earning both the right to rip the mask off of him and select the next gear. Seeing Trey’s ripped muscles stretched out and at Skip’s mercy absolutely grabs me by the balls. Skip works in just a little, too little for my taste, groping and muscle worship on his momentarily vanquished opponent.
The first gear change happened off camera, so I was incredibly pleased to see that the rest of the switheroos happen in full site of each other and me. Trey’s pissed as he peels out of that suction packed singlet, irked at having been submitted by the vicious boy toy. I’m a little pissed that we’re done with seeing him in that singlet, because… fuck. He’s insanely sexy in that thing. Then again, seeing Trey’s naked body before he slips on the designer briefs that Skip has chosen for him next isn’t a disappointment in the least. The briefs are beautiful as well, and appropriately, Trey stays in shimmering gold.
The boys quickly move through the next submission and into jock straps, which last about 45 seconds before the next submission and the fully aroused combatants start going at it entirely naked. I’m long gone several times over well before the full monty climactic scrap at the end, but the pause button, a little recovery time, and some water make the brief naked wrestling deeply satisfying all over again. Both boys are hard, but Skip’s uncut cock is absolutely raging with lust as he wraps up and is wrapped up by the stunning physical specimen bare beneath him. Personally, I find Skip more compelling as a wholesale jobber. He screams bloody murder and whimpers in a way that tickles my prostate just right. So his highly competitive and frequently dominating/domineering work in Gear Wars 4 isn’t quite in the sweet spot where I enjoy Skip most. But I have yet to see Trey fail to make me gasp in awe and wonder. His body is superhuman. His wrestling is raw and very rough. And having never heard the golden god talk nearly as much in any prior match, I am weak at the knees to hear that visually dizzying form of his paired with a deep, slow Southern drawl. I cannot wait (CAN NOT WAIT!) to see this phenom face a serious challenge in the ring. In whose expert hands do you think Trey should seriously be initiated into the ring? I’ve got my own ideas…
When the stars align and my homoerotic wrestler of the month is also my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestling overall, it’s time to sit back and appreciate what makes a particular hunk so dominant in my affections. There are a lot of stunning attributes to Kid Karisma, many of which I don’t mention nearly enough. Those glacial blue eyes are riveting. There are not nearly enough hot, hunky gingers populating homoerotic wrestling, so again, Kid K fills a necessary role in what turns me on. And he suggested in my interview with him a while back that he’s actually particularly proud of his mammoth horseshoe triceps. But let’s face it, there will never be enough said, nor enough photographic studies done to exhaust the wonder that is his stunning ass. So, again I say, let’s face it…
I just realized that I left Austin Cooper (the Doctor) and Ray Naylor hanging in the last Friday Fashion poll. We’ll let the two of them duke it out some more, but it’s been quite a brutal squash so far. I’ll tally the votes officially on Friday, so Ray fans better get their asses in gear if you want to save his lean, sizzling bacon. In the mean time, OMI smuggled out of BG East a couple more batches of photos for our scrutiny and fantasizing. There are fan favorite babyfaces, sweaty heel muscle, and an intriguing little bit of drama to speculate about.
I recently commented that I’d trade most gay porn sex scenes for a mouthwatering over the knee backbreaker any day. This isn’t indicative of how I feel about sex, per se. I was pointing out that it’s the typical woodenness (not the good kind) and scriptedness of hardcore porn that I find less than fulfilling. However, it is indeed indicative of how I react to homoerotic wrestling, even when it’s sold with a pretty transparent script, and truth be told, the OTK backbreaker in particular works me every time. Even a poorly sold OTK makes my heart beat faster. But a truly exquisite OTK is a work of art that captures the essence of eroticism, domination, and combat that jerk my libido hard. When I think of the OTK backbreakers that have stuck with me, seared into my memory and making my pulse pound even in retrospect, here are few of the G-rated (well, let’s say PG-rated just for the extra prudish out there) examples that I’ve filed away for safe keeping and frequent consulting.