Skrapper – Page 3 – Sidelineland

Letting the Horse Out of the Barn

February 21, 2014December 19, 2022 wrestlebard8 Comments

Mason Brooks and Drake Marcos are no strangers around neverland. They’ve both been gracious interviewees, and both hunks have stayed in touch over the last year and a half as they’ve broken into the homoerotic wrestling business. So what a delight it was for me to have both of them agree to sit down with me and give a tandem interview to reflect on how far they’ve come, and in particular break down some of the sexy details of their newly released battle with each other in BG East’s Passion and Punishment. I shared my very enthusiastic thoughts about that match last week, so what a treat to delve deeper into that incredibly sexy battle with the two studs in question. The conversation took some twists and turns that I did not expect, and there’s some reckoning still to happen now that some words were spoken on the record, that a particular wrestler can’t take back now. So buckle up for this wild ride with two sizzling sexy sophomores and one very turned-on blogger.

drake6 — The Cheshire Cat of Homoerotic Wrestling, Drake Marcos, is getting serious.

Bard: Drake and Mason, thanks for chatting with me. This is my first time interviewing two handsome studs at the same time. Thanks for being my first 3-way!

Mason: Happy to oblige. I hope Drake isn’t too intimidated being in the same interview with me.

Bard: After the bruising you took in your recent match, Drake, I could imagine why you might feel intimidated. Any post-traumatic flashbacks sitting down for this chat with Mason here?

Drake: Always…always a pleasure, Bard. When it comes to Mason, however, I don’t believe that what I feel in regards to him is “intimidation”, per se. I would say that it’s more akin to “awareness.” No false, swaggering bravado on my part…a “no spin zone” if you will. I’m well aware that I got my ass whupped all over that mat room, very well aware. So what I feel is more of an “awareness” of what he’s capable of now, so our inevitable rematch will involve a little more calculation than what I normally bring to a match up. I’m surprised my shoulders are still functioning after that shit.

Bard: I have to admit, I was a little worried about lasting damage to your body as well. Glad to hear you’re still in working order and plotting the rematch. Mason, you quite clearly had a plan in mind when you arrived on the mats that day. What was going through your head when you posted Drake’s photo on the wall and wrote “property of Mason Brooks” across it?

Mason: So I have a little confession. I try to let my wrestling do the talking, so to speak. But when I found out my next match was against precious little Drake, I just couldn’t resist playing a few head games. He really is fun to mess with, even when you don’t have him locked up in a bodyscissor, and watching the frustration bloom across his face is half the fun. Besides, I needed to set everyone straight, and make them realize I’m no jobber (those last two boys got lucky, I got distracted by their Canadian-ness). So I thought, what better way to make my mark as a real threat than to, literally, mark him as my property? Oh sure, I started with the picture, ’cause I knew that would get him going, but from the start I had visions of him lying there helpless with my name written in big letters across his chest. I planned that match in my mind a hundred times, and then I made it happen. I’m just glad they filmed it so I can watch my handiwork, and take satisfaction in a job well done. After they see this match, no one will mistake me for a jobber. And that is what we Washingtonians call controlling the narrative.

Bard: Controlling is definitely the first word that comes to my mind as I watch that session. It also seemed that sending a message was on both of your minds. How much do both of you have your fans in mind when you step onto the mat?

drake7 — Things got rough and intense quickly in Passion & Punishment

Drake: If there’s one thing Drake values more than his meds, it’s his fans. It’s why I started the blog (it’s not been abandoned, promise), it’s why my undercover photo sprees are now infamous (my lips are sealed on the culprit of the last one, however). Not only was Mason’s liberty with my photo and my sharpie an affront to me, it was an affront to my fans. I mean who the hell wants Mason’s “autograph” on my picture?! And I swore to myself I would make him pay. I had the best of intentions, I swear. Nobody can say I didn’t fight my heart out.

Mason: I also had Drake’s fans in mind.

Drake: Bitch…

drake8 — Mason stays focused on the task at hand: battering Drake’s abs.

Mason: Seriously, though, when you’re in the middle of an intense match like that, part of you knows the fans are watching and you want to make something that’s enjoyable to watch, but mostly that takes a back seat to more immediate concerns, like the guy whose abs you’re beating on at the moment. There’s no time to think about much else. Hopefully that intensity comes through and makes the match fun for everyone to watch.

Drake: I find myself echoing some of the same sentiments.

Bard: You’re both incredibly intense wrestlers who are always a blast to watch! I couldn’t help but notice you both mention during your match adoring comments that have been made about you. Of course, I’m thinking of the references to Drake as the Cheshire Cat of homoerotic wrestling and the description of Mason’s nipples as “magical.” I like to take credit for both of those talking points when it comes to your PR (though I suspect I’m not the first to refer to your nipples as magical, Mason). Do comments from fans and bloggers ever help psych you up as you prepare for a match? In other words, do you ever read your own PR, and does that ever figure into what you’re bringing into the mat room with you?

Drake: I would be lying if I said that I didn’t have the Drake Marcos’ reference section of Neverland bookmarked on my desktop. I hope you don’t mind that I claimed the Bard-coined Cheshire Cat moniker as my own. Also I have never deleted an email from a fan yet. I use this as kind of a launching point: things that fans want from my matches and always try to do fans a service that way. But in terms of psyching myself up for a match? I’m like a tightly wound spring, in that regard. Always have a bit of gear and a can of red bull in my bag, ready to go.

Bard: Mind!? Are you crazy! Turned on, more like. I just have to figure out what sort of royalty payments you owe me. Mason, do you follow your own PR, and if so, can I get kickbacks every time you use the phrase “magical” to describe your nipples?

Drake: I think we all know Mason enjoys having his considerable ego stroked…among other things.

Mason: Feel free to draw something up, Bard, and I’ll have my legal team look it over.

Bard: I’ll fax something over in the morning. There will be lots of stroking involved. So this was, I believe, the first time we’ve seen you wrestle naked, Mason. How was the experience of wrestling naked on camera for you ?

drake5 — Mason and Drake let it all hang out well before the end of their brutal match.

Mason: I didn’t think too much about it, actually. It just sort of happened in the moment. And then that horse was out of the barn, as they say, so I went with it. Being buck naked is very liberating, I must say. Although one must be careful not to, (ahem), squash anything. Other than Drake, of course. I was happy to squash him.

Drake: Yeah, yeah…

Bard: Well I hope we get to see that horse liberated often! Now, Drake, this wasn’t the first time we’ve seen your trunks ripped off and your naked fineness dragged across the mat. While it’s our pleasure to see your body getting fitter with every match, it doesn’t look like you’re exactly enjoying being on the short end of another brutal, humiliating beating. In a conversation I recently had with another wrestler who will remain anonymous you were referred to as a “sweet jobber.” How do you feel about the moniker “jobber,” and what keeps your head in the game after a series of such crushing defeats?

drake12 — Don’t call Drake a jobber (?).

Drake: Thank you for noting my progress; the attention and compliments are very appreciated. I think I have an idea as to just who that wrestler was that referred to me in such a manner; his wording narrows the list of suspects considerably. Maybe when you finally accept my challenge/invitation I can allay my suspicions by beating the culprit’s name out of you. Despite my less-than-stellar track record at BG, I kind of balk at the title “jobber” (because that’s what it is…a “title”, NOT a “moniker”…it’s not my name or identity. Trust). No one likes getting their ass kicked. I was seriously untested and inexperienced when I stepped onto the mats for my baptism/trial by fire with Gabriel Ross and since then, from each and every significant thumping that I endure, I learn and take a lot that will help inform my future matches. Someone once said you have to lose your life to find it; you have to die to be reborn. I do believe that my soul crushing trouncing in the ring by Jonny along with my equally disheartening loss on the mats to you-know-who has been a… Y’know what? Just prepare yourself for the coming Rebirth. I can just feel it. How do I keep my head in the game? The fact that I know that all the “jobber” comments and dismissiveness that people regard me with are just the growing pains I have to go through before I reach my full potential. This whipping boy is taking up the lash.

Bard: Sounds like we should be watching for the Second Coming of Drake. I certainly mean no offense when I ask about the term jobber. From the fan side of things, some of the hottest commodities are the sweetly selling jobbers, and as Mason mentioned during your match, you are nothing short of beautiful when your face is twisted up in agony. That said, I think I remember suggesting that if you won something in the year-end BGE awards, then I might have to take your call out seriously. So congratulations on your match with Jonny winning Best Squash, and bring it on, stud! Though, if you don’t enjoy getting your ass kicked, I’ll understand if you don’t want to risk it. What were some of the lessons you learned with Mason’s ass sitting on your face?

[extensive, awkward silence]

Mason: This isn’t the first time someone’s been dumbstruck by my ass.

Bard: I believe that. A lot.

Drake: Sorry, was answering some fan mail. I love compliments, I really do and there is a certain group that like to see me fading out in a sleeper. Hey, I’m not going to knock people’s tastes. Fans just need to not get so…comfortable. Even though I got completely bulldozed by Jonny, I can’t hate on it. I lobbied hard for that award. There would have been…repercussions if I didn’t get something for that match besides bruising that lasted for a little over a week. Despite my humbling ordeal against Mason, I did learn a lot, but, Bard, what does it matter what kind of bullets are in the gun as long as the gun is loaded? It’s my ammo! To answer that question would be akin to emptying the clip. Uh-uh…no way. However, step on the mats with me, Bard. You can learn first hand just what I’ve learned.

drake10 — Drake is no stranger to biting off more than he can chew. Just ask Jonny Firestorm.

Bard: Personally I’d like to see you trussed up on a turnbuckle in the ring again, but mat, ring, whatever. We’ll see what we can do, stud. Now try to pay attention as Mason discusses where he’s still learning to up his game, because you could use a little practice scouting your competition, if you want that rematch. So, Mason, other than facing Canadians, what are your… I don’t want to say weaknesses… growing edges?

Mason: Ha, “growing edges,” I like that. I try to learn something from every match, win or lose, (not that losing is much of a concern these days). As much as a wrestling match is about physical strength and skill, I’ve learned just how important it is to go in with the right attitude, and pay attention to the mental dynamics at play. There have definitely been a few matches–including my first few for BG East–where I went in with a certain trepidation, just because I was the new guy, or because the other guy is bigger, or talks a big game. The truth is, though, every guy–every guy–has a part of him that feels weak and can be intimidated. The trick is to find that and exploit it. Some guys are just more easily exploited than others [*cough* *cough*]. So I feel like I’m getting better at that mental aspect of the competition, and I look forward to taking on the challenges that BG East has in store for me with a renewed sense of confidence.

Bard: That makes total sense, and I can clearly seeing you doing exactly that in all of your matches thus far. I also love how no one had been able to resist locking lips with you. I hope that theme continues in your march to greatness. Since you’re feeling the wind at your back, would you be willing to give Drake some pointers as he toils away at that first on-camera victory? What does he need to do to pull all of his experience on the short end of the stick together into a winning plan?

Drake: He wins one match so he’s a pro offering lessons now? What a crock!

drake16 — Mason makes sure that Drake will remember this for a long time!

Mason: Ya know, green isn’t a good color on you, boy. Anyway, Bard, I think the best advice I could give is to clear your mind, forget about all your previous matches, all your previous opponents, and come at the next one like it’s your first, a real clean slate. Now, in the case of me, that might be difficult, since I’m pretty much unforgettable, but I wish him the best of luck with that. I’d like nothing better than to see Drake turn things around and notch one in the winner’s column.

Bard: Now, that’s just sweet and sportsmanlike! Since you do have more matches on your resume, Drake, do you have any gems of wisdom to share with Mr. Magical Nipples?

Mason: Oh boy, here we go…

Drake: Thank you, Mason, for your words of “wisdom.” I think there’s some solid advice in there. I will say this, you may have Bard and the others fooled with this “good guy” act, but I’m unconvinced. But here’s my advice: watch your back. And stay away from Jonny. Nothing will crush this little victory lap that you’re on faster than 5 minutes in the ring with him.

Bard: What do the two of you think about other wrestlers at BGE? In addition to Jonny, who do think are the toughest competitors currently in the mix? Which headliners are the most overhyped?

Drake: I think Jonny should tread lightly when it comes to Lane Hartley. The man is gorgeous and so, so deadly. Overhyped? Mason Brooks….but you said “headliners.” In all seriousness though, every guy on the roster is there for a reason, they all have something to bring to the table, and have reached their level of popularity for a reason, and I can only hope that my star continues to shine and maybe one day as bright as theirs.

Bard: Okay, Mason, Drake has just pulled all his punches. Tell us, straight from the hip, who do you think is the real deal at BGE and who’s treading on thin ice?

Mason: Let’s see. I’ve seen enough of Jonny to know that he knows his stuff. Same with Ethan Axel. They both have the skills, and it shows. As for those two on the cover of our latest DVD, Skrapper and Trey, I’m not convinced. Both of them are a little too pretty to seem like much of a threat on the mats, but there’s only one way to find out for sure. I guess I’ll just have to take them both on.

Bard: I just swooned. My mind is going to spin for days trying to decide in a Mason-Skrapper-Trey sandwich, who is the filling. What do you say to prospective wrestlers thinking about trying out for BG East? Now that you’re sophomores, what can you tell aspiring homoerotic wrestlers to prepare them for what they’ll find should they make it to the dance?

Drake: First off, make sure this is really what you want to do, because once it’s out there, it’s out there. Secondly, put your training into overdrive, working for BG is not easy, it’s actually work. Now with that disclaimer, I would say that they can expect to find a feeling of homecoming: being around others with a like mind, shared vision, similar passions, camaraderie, lasting friendships, sexy wrestling (of course). However, be prepared to have your strength and endurance tested. Train like never before.

Bard: Sounds like a good gig. As I’m sitting here with you two, there are two words that keep popping up for me: tag team. A Marcos/Brooks team sounds like an awesomely sexy and dangerous pairing. Either of you thought about tag teaming?

Drake: I’m sure I can put my considerable ego aside and work with Mason, if he feels the same , especially since I know what he’s capable of now. I mean, we kind of dominated those games of pool chicken that those leaked pictures showed.

Bard: Exactly my thinking. What do you think about the idea, Mason?

They can dominate at a game of chicken in the pool. Could they team up in the ring?

Mason: Yeah, we did make a good team in the pool, and I feel like Drake was a natural in the girl’s role. It must be easier when you have a guy with a strong (and sexy) pair of legs supporting you. I would definitely be up for a tag team match, since it’s something I haven’t done yet. Especially if they paired us up against the right team. Maybe another recent winner/loser pair? We just have to be careful–watching Drake can be mesmerizing, so I might get distracted and forget to come to his rescue. Or turn on him… Nah, I’m not that kind of guy. I can be a little, uhh, what’s the word…arrogant, perhaps? But I’m also loyal to a fault. If Drake was my teammate, I’d whip both the other guys, just for bragging rights. I do so enjoy bragging.

Drake: [sighs angrily]

Bard: I’m not sure that’s a formula for victory, but I want a front row seat for that match, because that would be some sweet, sexy drama! And I couldn’t agree with you more that Drake is awfully mesmerizing to watch wrestle. Between your nipples and Drake’s pretty face, I think you two could make quite the mesmerizing duo. I knew that doing this tandem interview would turn out to be a wild ride. Anything else either of you would like to say to each other… or me… or either army of your respective fans?

Mason: I just got a chance to watch the match yesterday, and I think it’s something pretty special, so I hope everybody enjoys it as much as Drake enjoyed getting worked over by me. I’ve probably said it before, but the fans are what keep us pushing harder to look our best, fight our hardest, and make the best match videos we can. I’ve been humbled (well, almost humbled) by the amount of support and encouragement I’ve received since my debut, and it makes me eager to keep reaching for bigger and better things. Who knows what this year will hold? Maybe I’ll turn my attention to the ring. And Drake my boy, if you ever feel like getting some practice in, you know where to find me. I promise to go a little easier on you, and to leave the Sharpie at home.

Bard: Well said, of course, Mason. You have as remarkable a facility with words as you do with wrestling. And since you mention it, I have to say that despite Drake’s comment about not enjoying getting his ass kicked, I could swear he’s enjoying it at least a little when you have him racked over your back near the end of your match. His lips may say “no, no” but that swelling cock seems to sing another tune. What say you, Drake?

Drake: Listen, at the end of the day, wrestling turns me on. Whether I’m getting my ass kicked or kicking ass (it’s gonna fuckin’ happen!!!) it’s incredibly arousing to have two sweaty bodies rubbing up against each other, muscles straining, hearts racing, breaths ragged. It’s what drew me to it before and what keeps me coming back now. I’ll admit it, Mason’s hot, and the view of me across his shoulders only increases the sexiness tenfold. I mean, I am mesmerizing (as you both have stated). About fans: they are everything, seriously. I probably would have withered up by this point if I didn’t get besieged with messages when I log on to global, or when I receive an email from someone who stumbled across my blog, wanting to know when I’m getting back to it (hint: soon), or telling me they see themselves on the page. I too find myself humbled and grateful to talk to people everyday that enjoy my work as well as wrestling in general, and then getting to know them as people. The digital age has made this great big world so much smaller – the little closet gay boy out in the boonies who enjoys wrestling with his friends because of his physiological response to it and has to live vicariously through the stuff he finds on the net. I was that kid, and now I get to live out my dream. Live what you love. Granted, the world of homoerotic wrestling is a small one. We’re a niche little world and an unglamorous one but, shit, I get to live a dream!! I’ve developed some amazing friendships through this whole journey, and am eager to see what happens next and hopefully am able to give my fans (and wrestling fans in general) what they want, and have come to expect, from BG. The ride has just begun.

Bard: Obviously, Drake, you also have an awesome ability to communicate the heart and passion of what turns so many of us on about homoerotic wrestling. I’m so inspired by your eloquence that it makes me feel a little ambivalent about needing to join the swelling ranks of guys who’ve worn you out. Mason, what do you think? Should I let young Drake off the hook for all his trash talk tossed my way, or does he need yet one more serving of humble pie?

Drake: Um, you’re fine… Looking for a way out, Bard?

Bard: [laughing] No! Just thought I should check with Mason since he appears to now own you, lock, stock, and fully aroused barrel. Don’t want to plant my flag on already claimed territory.

Drake: He only thinks he owns me! And the only planting that…you want to take this outside?

Bard: If need be, sure, but settle down there buckaroo. Mason earned the right to express his opinion on the subject right around the time he had you weeping for mercy draped across his shoulders. I’d like to hear what he has to say, seeing how he has the most recent read on just how much brutality and humiliation you can survive.

Mason: As much as I would love to think that I was the one who finally gave Drake his fill of punishment, I’m sure he’s already secretly eager for more.

Bard: Oh, no Drake. I am so sorry. I think that was the sound of your last chance leaving the building.

Drake: What are you apologizing for? I’ve been itching to show you just what I can do, Bard. That was your last chance!

Bard: Well, we can sort out the details of Drake’s next drubbing between the two of us. You two have made my first 3-way a true delight, and given me a lot to contemplate. I cannot wait to see where your wrestling careers take you next, and I hope that includes a 3-way rumble between Mason, Skrapper, and Trey, and a much needed recuperative vacation for Drake once I’m done with him. I hope you’ll stay in touch, Mason, and I hope you don’t hold it against me after I spank your ass, Drake!

Drake: Bring it, Bard…your writing won’t save you on the mats. Let’s do this!

Mason: Let me know if you guys need a ref.

Bard: If you wear speedos and a smirk, you’re hired. And my mind blowing wrestling fantasy will be complete!

drake3 — Little buckaroo still hoping he can find someone he can beat.

Our Man Inside

December 26, 2013 wrestlebardLeave a comment

So far, I’ve heard no word of any BG East boys turning up in an emergency room after being found out as our man inside, the source of these smuggled pics from a recent BG East taping. Whoever you are, I’m wishing you good health and long life, and dinner is my treat if you survive long enough for us to ever meet! For the rest of you, here are the final shots that our man inside has shared from the Florida sunshine.

Drake and Mason look like alligators hungrily eyeing their prey, aka yet-to-be released rookie Ty. Was this poolside scene all about between-match fun, or was there some sort of Wet ‘n’ Wild free for all caught on motion camera? It seems we’ll have to wait and see.

I’m thrilled to see that Skrapper was also on site, looking hunkier than ever and in need of a certain blogger to liberally lather him up with suntan lotion. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: pound for pound, I think Skrapper may be the most potent and fiercest homoerotic wrestler ever caught on camera. And a Miami Vice five o’clock shadow makes him look even sexier!

It doesn’t surprise me at all to see that Skrapper draws a crowd, and rookie-on-fire Trey Dixon looks like an ideal candidate to meet the buzz saw that is Skrapper on the mats.

I don’t know what it says about our mystery man inside that the most frequently photographed hunk in this batch of contraband photos is the thinking man’s homoerotic wrestler, Mason Brooks. Strike that. I do know that it says that our man inside has exquisite taste in rookie hunks. However, I still don’t know what it says about the identity of the man behind the camera.

Mason’s pecs are looking meatier and meatier, and I assume I don’t need to point out yet again just how sexy his nipples are. You don’t have an option to vote for “Best Nipples” in the BG East Year End Awards poll, so I’m unilaterally declaring Mason the winner. Deal with it.

I believe our secret photog also has a thing for luscious preview-hottie, Ty, because his hot, bronzed body shows up a whole lot as well. My guess is that the upperclassmen were lined up for their shot at this beautiful babyface. I hope that he’s tougher than he looks, because with the other cast of characters on hand, there’s a whole heap of hurtin’ in store for this beauty.

The shadows and low-def resolution on this final pic leave me guessing, but I’m pretty sure that this is Drake Marcos and Skrapper in what appears to be a tongue wrestling match. Or they may have just recreated the spaghetti scene from Lady and the Tramp (any ideas which is the Tramp?). Or they both have new tongue piercings that just got entangled. I’m just not certain.

These smuggled behind-the-scenes pics of BG East boys probably raise more questions than they answer, but it’s a thrill to see a hint of what’s yet to be revealed from BG East. To our man inside, our sincere thanks, and I’m serious about dinner being on me… if you dare reveal your identity!

Heat

April 26, 2013July 1, 2013 wrestlebardLeave a comment

Reigning favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy: 5’10”, 145 lbs Skrapper

My pornboy favorite rankings have been stagnant for a while. When Naked Kombat went down, the need for a separate pornboy category from the non-pornboy homoerotic wrestling favorites seemed less important to me. Now that NK is back and I’m back paying attention to them, I’m guessing there will be new pornboys capturing my fancy and shaking up the ranks. Mr. Intense, aka BG East’s Skrapper, has held the title of my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy forever, though I’m hoping the likes of someone like babyface sadist Vance Crawford might give Skrapper a run for his title. The heat that dude-meister Skrapper generates, however, is incredible, and even when no on (on camera) is losing a load or two by the end of a match, Skrapper’s mastery of a homoerotic wrestling opponent is nothing short of scorching.

Scorching Jake Jenkins: 5’7″, 155 lbs.

Did someone say scorching? Holy Mary Mother of God, have you seen that “little fucking monkey” (lovingly dubbed so by Kid Karisma) Jake Jenkins in mouthwateringly low rise Calvin Klein briefs!? His mat match in Sunshine Shooters 6 against Skrapper presents Jake as insanely sexy as we’ve ever seen him, somehow stoking my fires a tad more for eventually wrestling in nothing but his tighty-whities soaked through with buckets and buckets of sweat.

A little “training”

Jake has a notoriously steady hand on the rudder when he wrestles. He looks like a chess master through most of his matches, as much as a seriously dangerous powerhouse muscleman who, as Skrapper learns, can wrestle, punch, and kick with equally devastating results. Skrapper spends the first half of this match chipping away at the cool as ice exterior on lovely Jake. Having lured him to the mats for some “training,” he instantly and literally knocks Jake on his heels with the surprise that he wants to box. It takes approximately a blink of an eye for Jake to recalibrate and start unloading a semi full of bell ringing strikes with fists, feet, knees and elbows.

Skrapper may not have gotten the memo that Jake is also an MMA fighter!

Bit by bit, Skrapper keeps chipping away, not giving Jake a moment to breathe, not a second to recover when he gets the wind knocked out of him. Slowly it dawns on Jake that this isn’t about “training” at all. As Skrapper starts both dominating and humiliating the “little fucking monkey,” Jake starts to lose his patience. “What’s your problem, dude!” he snaps angrily when Skrapper stays on the offense well past the point of “practicing” a hold. Between Skrapper and Jake, I suspect there may be more utterances of the word “dude” in this match than any other in the history of homoerotic wrestling. I could find that grating, but I don’t. Not for a second. Because like Jake, I just don’t have time to catch a breath or be bothered by anything. Skrapper sucker punches and pounds and squeezes his way inside Jake’s guard and underneath Jake’s flawless skin, and right around the time sweat is pouring off of both of these boys’ bodies in streams, Jake is seriously pissed off and I’m completely turned on.

I’d pay good money to trade places with Skrapper at this very moment!

The baggy shorts come off pretty quickly, thank the homoerotic wrestling gods. More than 5 minutes with Jake Jenkins in anything more than very low-rise briefs is a crime against all that’s right and good in this world, as far as I’m concerned. And fuck, Skrapper! Damn! He’s no muscleboy, mind you, but he’s seriously fit, toned, and does a mighty fine job of making his own pair of athletic-fit Calvins stretch at all the right seams. Their two well-lubricated bodies sliding and squeezing all over each other is somewhere between a religious experience and insanely masterful art. Skrapper’s face and hands go places I’d give a kidney to go, and the more moisture their bodies generate, the more I swoon at the sound of hard, muscled bodies slapping wetly into each other… and the mat… and the walls.

I don’t know what you call this, but I call it sexy as hell!

Skrapper’s got a tiger by the tail when he’s finally succeeded in provoking Jake, but damn it all if the skrappy one doesn’t hold onto that hot, hot piece of tail with precisely the fearlessness and tenacity that propelled me to lustfully anoint him my top of the pack pornboy wrestler. I don’t know what the technical term is for this combo acrobatic/yoga/little-fucking-monkey move that Skrapper manages on the muscleboy, but he plants Jake’s handsome face into the mat, folds his legs at the knees, and pries the rest of Jake’s shiny body upward, slowly cranking Jake’s back arching backward. Damn, that needs to be mounted and framed and hanging on my wall!

Skrapper messes with the bull…

I never, ever count Skrapper out until he’s been unconscious for at least a minute, and Jake figures that lesson out for himself eventually. The skrappy one’s tenacity and endless reservoir of momentum and sheer nerve sincerely appear to stun his gorgeous opponent. But tenacity and nerve, in the end, aren’t nearly as stunning as Jake Jenkins provoked, unleashed, and just plain fucking fed up! The can of whoop ass he opens up as Skrapper keeps peeling himself off the mat and charging headlong into the buzzsaw is breathtaking. Just ask Skrapper right about the time that sweat-soaked Jake Jenkins plants his luscious ass down on Skrapper’s sternum, his hefty package lodged sweetly in Skrapper’s cleavage, and Jake breathes deep and pumps out a double bicep in victory.

Is he finally down for good!?

Chalk up another victory for that little fucking monkey!

By the end of this match Jake, Skrapper, AND I need a shower, and I can think of one easily solution to that problem!

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas, Santa Brought to Me…

January 5, 2013July 1, 2013 wrestlebard3 Comments

On the first day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Kid Karisma’s picture perfect ass.

On the second day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Ben Monaco’s luscious, furry pecs.

On the third day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Steel Muscle God’s tree trunk thighs.

On the fourth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Skip and Christian’s wrestling romance.

On the fifth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Darius’ muscle-packed trunks.

On the sixth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Kid Vicious’ domineering sneer.

On the seventh day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Lon Dumont’s insanely ripped back.

On the eighth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Mason Brook’s intoxicating nipples.

On the ninth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Cage Thunder’s mouthwatering cock.

On the tenth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Drake Marcos’ wrestling kinked smile.

On the eleventh day of Christmas, Santa brought to me Jonny Firestorm’s gorgeously sculpted forearms.

“On the twelfth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me…”

The final wish I whispered into Santa’s ear felt like possibly the most daring fantasy of all. I was incredibly fortunate to get to spend about half a day with a certain homoerotic wrestling god about a year and a half ago. The master of the house, this iconic heel turned wrestling producer showered generous hospitality on me, showing me every corner of BG East headquarters where many of my fondest wrestling fantasies have taken place. Near the end of my visit, he invited me to join him as he sat down at his computer and pulled up the unedited photos of the upcoming BG East catalog (Catalog 89). I stood behind his chair, looking over he shoulder as he clicked through literally hundreds of pics, zipping past most, and then pausing to soak in a particularly titillating shot. “Mmmmm,” he’d mutter appreciatively, “look at that!” A photo of Mitch Colby’s hot muscled bod draped helplessly across the top turnbuckle, about to be battered by big Vlad Varek made my host groan and made my cock ache. I got the first outside glimpse of masked mountain of muscle Magnus force feeding his monster cock to fellow rookie Surge, to the soundtrack of my host letting out a little gasp of pleasure as he paused on a shot from behind Magnus, dwarfing his opponent, as Surge’s hands worshipfully cupped Magnus’ massive glutes. My host would fly through dozens of photos and then something would catch his eye, and when he paused on a shot long enough for me to soak it in, I’d see it. A particularly sexy angle, a display of exquisitely tortured muscle, an incredibly hot grimace of agony or sadistic, sexy leer. His taste, his eye for what speaks most directly to my own homoerotic wrestling kink, was astonishing to witness, and his commentary as much as the graphics left me slightly dizzy and hard a rock. With that memory crystal clear in my mind, I whispered to Santa, I want to see just a glimpse of what he sees. And on the twelfth day of Christmas, Santa brought to me an entire collection of what catches the eye of the man who has pretty much defined my homoerotic wrestling kink, an astonishingly beautiful montage of moments directly from the desk of Kid Leopard.

Dawn breaks over the lake at BG East.

Skrapper rolls out of bed, ready for a day of wrestling

Drowsy Christian Taylor looks for breakfast, with pretty Pete Sharp in the background

“The irrepressible Lon Dumont” saddles up to the counter with his gorgeous recruit, pretty Pete Sharp

“Since you like bespectacled wrestlers,” the note from KL says, “here Nick Rush laces up beside a contemplative Lon Dumont prior to their match with Austin & Jake.”

Beauty, grace, power: Jake Jenkins takes to the air

Stunningly handsome and beautifully proportioned: All-American Austin Cooper

Bespectacled (thus extra hot) Lorenzo Lowe looks like the meat sandwiched between Jonny Firestorm and Kid Vicious

Lobolito watches as Drake texts illicit photos to neverland

Canadian Beef: The Boss included in his bundle of Christmas presents this never before seen (but much anticipated) preview of Ben Monaco and a new massive, hairy muscle beast due out in the next BG East catalog!

News Flash: Liam Ryan is bearded, bulked up, and ready for one of the most epic returns to BG East wrestling ever in 2013!

Did Kid Leopard’s eye for homoerotic wrestling mold my tastes, or does he simply have instinctive insight into what turns me on? Either way, like Santa, Kid Leopard is an incredibly generous friend of neverland, and his generosity and genius continue to turn me on like nobody else can!

Movement in the Ranks

October 8, 2011July 1, 2013 wrestlebardLeave a comment

The mental exercise of crowning “favorites” among the homoerotic wrestlers that I enjoy watching fascinates me. I get attached to my overall favorites. I don’t want to let them go, to let someone unseat them once I’ve said out loud, “This guy rocks me harder than just about anybody else.” So regular readers will back me up when I say that it doesn’t happen often that one of my favorites is replaced. Today is just such a momentum occasion, however. Mitch Colby has held the title of my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy or at least top contender for that title almost without pause since I started keeping track of such things. I find Mitch’s body profoundly moving, and there’s an authenticity to his wrestling that, without fail, has the effect of making it nearly impossible for me to tear my eyes away from him as he grunts, strains, flexes and crushes his way through one opponent after another. I’m deeply aroused by the sight of Mitch’s focused concentration as he picks apart some lucky loser, and I’m arguably even a little more aroused to watch Mitch throw everything he’s got at some superhuman freak only to be conquered and dominated in the end. Any new release with Mitch is instantly at the top of my to-buy list.

Mitch got those beautiful abs of his tested hard in Florida Fights 3

However, all that said, his latest new release came out in a batch of fantastic BG East wrestling that figuratively positioned Mitch side-by-side with a certain ferocious, rumbling bundle of nerves, nerve and sexuality that I’ve had my eye on for quite some time. I simply couldn’t ignore the juxtaposition of Mitch’s Florida Fights 3 bout and my growing crush on a certain grappler from Mat Scraps 1. While it’s certainly not that I don’t love Mitch’s high impact ring battle with Vlad Varek, I cannot help but note that Skrapper’s mat scrap against epic coverboy Z-Man has catapulted the skrappy one over top of favorite emeritus Mitch. It’s been a rare day in neverland that Mitch has been out of the the top two, but today I’m lustfully and enthusiastically elevating Skrapper to the position of number 1 contender for the title as my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy – right behind a dangerously quiet Trent Diesel.

The new #1 contender to the title of my
Favorite Homoerotic Wrestling Pornboy

I’m just going to put it right out there. I do not believe that Skrapper is pretty. I do, however, think he’s sexy… as… HELL. Typically I wax poetic about the size and heft of my favorite wrestler’s bulges, but Skrapper is a different story. Not to say that he doesn’t have a gorgeous ass and more-than-a-mouthful of a package, but the first words that pop into my mind in contemplating Skrapper’s physique are lean, lanky, and wiry. He’s got beautifully conditioned muscles in all the right places, but he’s no pretty coverboy with low slung pecs or massive biceps. At 5’10” and 145 pounds, he’s an astonishingly tight package without an ounce of bodyfat or merely gym toned muscle. He’s got an unconventionally handsome face with awesomely kissable lips and an aristocratic nose. I’d pick him out of any crowd as someone I’d desperately want to notice me. And if he did, and if he opened his mouth to speak, I’d be a goner.

“You’re losing so fast, dude!”

That voice! To be completely transparent, the word “Dude” is not a turn-on for me. And yet when Skrapper uses the word, as he does with relentless regularity, the timbre of his voice somehow skips right past my cerebellum and speaks directly to my cock. Perfect case in point: just about 2 minutes into his fearless face off with babyface extraordinary and homoerotic wrestler of the month, Z-Man. As is often the case, Skrapper starts wrestling about 2 speeds higher in intensity than his opponent. Z-Man looks for a moment like he’s going to have absolutely zero to offer against the raging focus of the skrappy one. “Damn!” Skrapper snarls, “you’re losing so fast, dude!” Holy shit, that irreverent, cocky, nothing to lose so I’ll fuck you over 9 ways to Sunday, skater badboy bass voice of his makes me nearly lose a load before Z-Man manages to get his groove going.

Beat that shit-eating grin off of face, Skrapper!!!

But it’s later in the match that Skrapper seals the deal to knock the knees out from under Mitch and demand my affections. Z-Man has a history (at least as far as I’m telling it) of hamming and mugging for the camera. BG East has been beating the living shit out of him since he arrived within their sphere of influence, such that he doesn’t have much time between grimaces to manage a cheesy smile. He does, however, still puke one out every so often, and they remain a serious buzz kill for me. So when Skrapper nearly rips the coverboy in half, he heaps on what is undeniably more punishment than is really necessary to make the muscleboy submit. When Z-Man hops up to his feet after conceding the fall, he looks like he’s ready to punch his fist through the back of Skrapper’s skull. “What!?” Skrapper demands. “That’s what you get for smiling at me, dude!” There. Right at that moment. Skrapper climbed into the top contender spot right there, punishing Z-Man not just for being pretty and cocky and screamin’ for it, but because Skrapper knows that fucking grin on the coverboy is a buzz kill and he deserves to be punished mercilessly anytime he pulls it out. I’ve been jonesin’ for someone to not only punish him for the shit-eating grin, but to call Z-Man out for it!

Driving home the point that you might want to just leave a
sleeping Skrapper lie.

Skrapper does not always win his matches. This is not a problem, and indeed it can heighten a wrestler’s allure as far as I’m concerned, if he makes the most of even a loss. Take, for example, Skrapper’s eventual loss at the hands of AJ Lyle in Undagear 17. Seriously, justice is on Skrapper’s side. He was just sleeping in the BG East matroom when AJ comes in, wakes him up, and tries to bully him out of his way. Fast-forward to the end of this scrap and you’ll be treated to Skrapper stripped naked and battered into complete and helpless exhaustion as the sweaty victor climbs on to use the skrappy one like his own electric blanket. Now rewind back to the beginning again, and watch how fucking irrepressible Skrapper is every single second of this match. True enough, he takes the loss and humiliation in the end. I sort of suspect he may have just had a hankering for a taste for giving up a cock-to-cock submission. But any way you slice it, pause the DVD at pretty much any point in the relentless battle, and you’re likely to see Skrapper firmly in charge or battling his way back from getting tossed around by his bigger opponent. Win or lose, you get the impression that Skrapper never really relinquishes the reins of psychological control in a match.

Kid Vicious & Skrapper’s understandable mutual admiration in Sexy Showdown 5: Florida Fun

It’s no wonder that in his relatively brief career in homoerotic wrestling, BG East has put him in the faces of some of the biggest and baddest boys on record. His encounter with notorious heel Kid Vicious left me breathless for all the right reasons, first and foremost the amazement to watch KV have to work to keep up with the eroticism (which he does, of course)! This is the most intensely erotic match I’ve seen Skrapper in, and frankly I’m not sure if there are many other than the likes of KV who can really match the inherent sensuality and eroticism that Skrapper brings with just a look and a snarl. There are moments in the match that make me gasp because Skrapper doesn’t just get riding time and take control of arguably the baddest boy in the stable: he humiliates him. Folding KV up, sitting on his face, and peeling the vicious bastard’s trunks down to expose his ass in utter helpless humiliation is a position that far bigger and more accomplished wrestlers have only dreamed of.

It’s not easy, but clearly it’s rewarding to take
Skrapper firmly in hand

This match is also where Skrapper earns his way into the adored ranks of homoerotic wrestling pornboys, the way I count them. Not only do both wrestlers lose their trunks, but KV succeeds in planting his ass across Skrapper’s mouth and, after pummeling Skrapper’s cock forEVER, he teases and strokes that battered joystick back to life until Skrapper erupts in ecstasy, his groans of pleasure muffled up KV’s ass. Holy hell! Have I used that expression already in this post? Those words come out of my mouth multiple times in just about every Skrapper match I’ve had the pleasure to enjoy.

Passing the torch

And speaking of enjoy, it’s so ironic as to seem like fate that Skrapper and Mitch generated such intoxicating chemistry in their voracious mat battle in Catch Weight 3. The weight differential is simply too much for Skrapper to make up, but he makes Mitch pay dearly for absolutely any split second of distraction or loss of focus. No wonder at all that he earns a trip hoisted over Mitch’s stone-carved shoulder once all is said and done, to be fireman-carried poolside and tossed in. Illustrating why Mitch has so long been in the ranks of the elite of my favorites, he quickly dove in after his prey to crush him once more in a wet bearhug that merges seamlessly into a make-out session with Skrapper perched across Mitch’s crotch.

I call next!

It seems hard for most of Skrapper’s opponents to resist the temptation to slide their tongues between those beautiful lips sooner or later. Skrapper’s one victory, prior to knocking Z-Man out cold and wreaking divine retribution on behalf of all of us who’ve screamed at our computer screens when the coverboy broke character and grinned like a Cheshire cat, was a lightweight battle for the books against perennial jobber Skip Vance. Seriously now. If Skrapper can make the likes of Brook Stetson work his 240 pound ass off to finally tame the feral beast, 135 pound Skip was doomed from well before the start of their Wrestleshack rendezvous. Gorgeously naked bodies, crushed and battered, seamlessly meld into sweat-soaked, fully aroused paramours. Skip hardly seems to mind Skrapper prying his face to the side with a handful of Skip’s hair in order to lock lips and grind crotches.

I’m sure Mitch will always work me hard, but it’s a lightweight, lanky, skater punk wildcat with an obvious lust to dominate that leaves him so loathe to submit that even the big, big boys have no choice but to knock him out cold and carry him from the mat in order to make him quit, who’s in undisputed possession of the top contender spot in my rankings of homoerotic wrestling pornboys who turn me on. And a little word of advice to Trent Diesel: you’d better get your ass back out on the mat soon, pretty boy, because there’s a feral, lanky unstoppable force of nature with a wildly sexy bass voice and a complete lack of awareness of when to give up who’s ready to plow you into second place… dude!

Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month

October 2, 2011July 1, 2013 wrestlebard2 Comments

September saw a bumper crop of highly entertaining homoerotic wrestling releases! Occasionally, I find the field a bit sparse some months, but that’s not the case as I consider which new release featured the homoerotic wrestler who entertained and turned me on most. Whenever BG East releases a new catalog, they automatically become the wrestling to beat for my monthly title. Catalog 89 is no exception to that rule. From Florida Fights 3, Kirby Stone, Mitch Colby, and Cole Cassidy rise to the top of my affections. In fact, Kirby’s fierce beatdown and ownership over Reese Wells was unexpectedly moving, and I’m instantly craving more of the nasty babyface with that fantastic ass! The Science of Scissors pushes my buttons hard from start to finish, and Rio Garza, Jimmy Gee, Trent Blayze and Attila Dynasty could all equally merit the crown. Patrick Donovan’s Wrestler Spotlight makes me wonder how it’s possible that Patrick has never possessed one of my titles, not to mention the always enticing stylings of Tyrell Tomsen and Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!), who’s still chomping at Kid Karisma’s ass to muscle his way back into the top contender spot for my favorite homoerotic wrestler – non-pornboy division. Muscle god Dev Michaels, sexy rookie Lucky Loko, Jonny Firestorm (and especially his forearms) and Brook Stetson (both looking to claim the monthly title a second time) put in fabulous bids for September’s homoerotic wrestler of the month distinction. And still more from BG East, Cain McDonald’s amazingly hot ass, Z-Man’s coverboy pecs, and Skrapper’s intense, primal sexuality have all made me do a double take at Mat Scraps 1. And double rookie debut Magnus and Surge both put up completely competitive performances for Wrestle Worship 3. Rio Garza gets a second nod for his Can-Am appearance working out some long-built frustrations for that astonishingly long line of heel beatdowns, working over perpetually over-the-top Jobe Zander in Rio’s Revenge. From Rock Hard Wrestling, another two former homoerotic wrestler of the month title holders bring a fantastic ring battle to be considered this month: Jake Jenkins and Lucas Payne.

There were a lot of other releases in September that tempt me to make this long list even longer. But I’m drawing the line there. The rest, however delightful, are only also rans for my affections. That’s already 22 wrestlers working me hard, making this one of the tough, tough calls in the history of my homoerotic wrestlers of the month. Regular readers know that I frequently find myself moved most by the unconventional choices, the wrestlers who may not be the prettiest or appear to be the most popular in the discussion groups. With that caveat in mind, I’m boldly stepping forward, lifting the crown, and placing it squarely atop the shaggy brown mop of hair atop the head of…

… Z-Man.

Yes, perhaps my tastes this month uncharacteristically overlap with the majority (though I don’t think Neilsen’s actually has hard numbers on viewership of homoerotic wrestling). I’m not ashamed to say that the pretty, pretty, pretty (pretty, pretty, pretty) prettyboy Z-Man turned me on arguably the most for his Mat Scrap with one of my long-time, low burning crushes: Skrapper.

There’s always an inherent tension in picking a homoerotic wrestler of the month based on matches released in the prior month. For one thing, it takes two to tango, so to speak, so a particularly fantastic match is seldom built on the performance of just one wrestler. Mat Scraps 1 is a case in point. I’m turned on more and more every time I see Skrapper in action (keep your eyes open for more news on that front). His absolutely lovely delivery of both pain and humiliation on Z-Man is testimony first and foremost to his quickly evolving homoerotic wrestling expertise. He dishes out precisely measured portions of agony and ego-busting embarrassment, and he displays the coverboy’s picture perfect physique with incredible generosity. And I’ve got to say there’s something astonishingly sexy about Skrapper’s deep, bass voice. Not everyone who uses the word “Dude” with such frequency has the same effect on me, but that voice of his rumbles out of some deep, dark place where a seriously ferocious, primal lust to dominate lives.

So it should come as no surprise that Skrapper could just as easily been crowned this month for his work with Z-Man. However, it’s upon Z-Man that I’m placing the crown of laurel, because for a smokin’ hot hunk who’s always had a truck full of potential for homoerotic wrestling entertainment, for me this is the first time I’ve thought his delivery fully lived up to his potential. I’m being unkind when I say that I wasn’t always sure from Z-Man’s work with other companies whether he was burning at full wattage. There’s something bordering on thick-headed about his persona in the past, and pretty and smart turn me on about 100 times more than pretty and dumb. But I feel like in Mat Scraps, I got a glimpse of not just a pretty face (and ass, and pecs, and biceps, and ass, and ass…), but a clever hunk who can tell a story on the mats. He suffers exquisitely in Skrapper’s machinations, but Z-Man also remembers where they are in the plot. When Z-Man’s upper lip curls in fury as he rips apart Skrapper’s crotch like a Thanksgiving wishbone, the symmetry is beautiful. In almost the precise place and position in which Z-Man himself had been ripped apart earlier in the match, he gets his revenge on the wiry one.

It’s not as if I’ve ever not been turned on by Z-Man in still frame. His body is a work of art. His milky smooth skin stretched over an extraordinary gym body is captivating. But more than ever before, I believe Z-Man in Mat Scraps. I believe that he’s seriously pissed off that a skinny skater punk should dare to treat him with such contempt. I believe that he’s hurting, that those fists driving deep into the thick muscles of Z-Man’s pecs seriously smart. I believe that the Z-Man has some actual ego invested in meeting his opponent toe-to-toe, in not being made a fool of, in showing that he can corral the innate ham within and bring to bear all that strength, beauty, and yes, even smarts, to give every impression that he wants to be a competitor.

I get this match. Somehow, it seems like this match gets me. Skrapper is a stud that I’ll have more to say about soon, but today, this month, it’s Z-Man that I’m happily rolling back my prior bitchy criticisms of. He delivers powerful, personality-filled, ego-invested wrestling that I enjoyed without reservation. If I’ve ever offended Z-Man for being less than generous in the past, I’m contented to say that he’s made a believer out of me today. And if ever he feels the need to smack me around a little and lock my head between his fabulous legs and squeeze, I’ll certainly understand!

What’s Been Unsaid

September 24, 2011July 1, 2013 wrestlebard2 Comments

After nearly about a month and a half, I can finally spit out the metallic taste of blood from my mouth! When I made my pilgrimage to BG East in August, I was treated to the privilege of seeing photos from all of the catalog 89 new releases. It was a profound thrill, like being told that I, and I alone, could open all of my Christmas presents a week early. But then I couldn’t talk about it! I couldn’t write about it! I couldn’t obsess on the pages of this blog about each and every tantalizing, confidential morsel from catalog 89 that made my mouth water. I’ve been biting my tongue non-stop since August 5th, and I’m overjoyed that BG East has released catalog 89 for purchase. Let the obsessive reviewing begin (and the healing of my bitten tongue)!!!

I’m just hitting a few highlights for today, because there’s just too much that I’ve had bottled up that I’ve got to say about so many of the new releases. So in addition to nearly making want to cry to see Mitch Colby barefoot in the ring in Florida Fights 3, I’ve been aching to comment on match #1 from that same DVD. Hell and damnation! Kirby Stone can WEAR a pair of skintight shiny pink trunks! That ass has most certainly caught my attention!

Pretty much precisely the same thing has to be said about Cain McDonald in his appearance (taking fall #1!!!) against Mikey Vee. The legs and ass on this grappler make me gasp! That face looks just about too juvenile to feel entirely guilt-free about, but that lower body is 100% guilt-free adult male entertainment.

Next up on the comments burning a whole in my belly: Dev Michaels looks like a fucking monster in the ring against slender, unclassically but undeniably handsome newbie, Lucky Loko. Man alive the two of them make for an astonishingly arousing picture! The fact that Lucky didn’t run screaming from the building on sight of Dev makes him a hot commodity in my book.

And speaking of monsters in the ring (I’ve been DYING to use that line!), has it escaped anyone’s attention that Attila Dynasty appears to be smuggling major meat in his trunks in his scissor fest against Trent Blaze?!!! If the summer Olympics have taught me anything, they’ve taught me that gymnasts are sexy as hell, and the pics of Attila’s acrobatics in the ring have caught me completely off guard. I had no idea from his debut to expect either all that Attila can accomplish without his feet on the ground, or the massive ballast in the pouch of those powder blues (I’m heading back to Backyard Brawls 7 right now for another look).

Next up, it simply must be said that the sight of Z-Man clawing Skrapper’s chest and swinging for the rafters makes me just about ready to pop right here and now. If I know Skrapper, however, Z-Man better not count him out a moment too soon!

And I’ve been anticipating the hating for a while, but I call it like I see it. And as much as the sight of Rio Garza’s body getting worked over (and that face crushed between his opponent’s legs) is like icing on the cake, the pics of Jimmy Gee’s slabs of beef that are his muscled ass has got the be the most delicious main course in this match for me.

I’ve also been aching to say that it’s about time for another installment of Wrestle Worship. I love this concept. I need more of this concept. And newbies Magnus and Surge appear to dish up an extraordinary amount of eroticism with delightful proportions of both wrestling and body worship. Does anyone else wonder if Magnus requires his own zip code? And speaking of numbers, does anyone have Surge’s telephone #!?

Again, I’ve been dying to celebrate the return of ripped, rock hard Tyrell Tomsen. I can’t think of a better opponent to pick apart a bodybuilder adonis than the likes of sexy-assed veteran Patrick Donovan.

And finally, Mr. Joshua, Patrick, barefoot, in the ring, with Patrick’s testicles getting crushed in Mr. J’s fist… You’ll have to excuse me now. I need to rehydrate after writing those words. I’m sure you’ll be hearing much, much more from me about all of this in the future.

Cocks Named

June 1, 2011July 1, 2013 wrestlebard1 Comment

Jobberinnyc made short work of this week’s Name That Cock quiz. Way to go, jobberinnyc! He knows his homoerotic wrestling cocks, and for that, he’s head of the class this week here in neverland. Let’s review his excellent work, so that you can learn from his fine example.

Cock #1 belongs to…

… BG East’s Dino Serra.

I’ve seen just a few of Dino’s matches, but my impression is that he had a loud-n-proud raging erection in every match. This fine display of his major league tool comes from his thrashing at the hands of eager beaver Jarrett Cole in Wrestleshack 7.

Cock #2 belongs to…

Naked Kombat’s Race Cooper.

In particular, this shot of his rod comes from his most recent match, posted March 16, going toe-to-toe and cock-to-cock with Roman gladiator-looking beefy stud Jeremy Tyler. Pornboy Race is sculpted perfection. Damn.

Cock #3 belongs to…

… BG East’s Jose.

Holy hell, the sight of Jose’s meat always makes me gasp. Greg Leary, pictured here pinned by the python with some gratuitous pec clawing thrown in just for kicks, thought his quite impressive cock would warrant some cred when he stripped off his trunks. Pointing to his pendulous cock, Greg let Jose know that he was bringing his “quarter pounder” into the final round of their match in Hard Pros 6. Jose simply smirked dismissively and peeled out of his own trunks, illustrating that he was slapping down “the whole Big Mac.” Win-win-lose, as far as I’m concerned (Jose wins; you and I win; Greg loses).

Cock #4 belongs to…

…Can-Am’s Billy Herrington/Billy Marcus.

Here, Billy has hoisted blond boytoy Dax Kelly over his gargantuan shoulders, on his way to breaking the twink down to complete adoring submission. Truth is, physiques as thick and massive as Billy’s make it tough to make even an impressive cock look proportional. However, Billy does just fine, as far as I’m concerned. The brain-trust that came up with the title “Wrestlers” for this release deserve a neverland razzie, but with Billy Herrington on the cover, who would ever remember the name of the tape?

Cock #5 belongs to…

… BG East’s heel extraordinaire, Kid Vicious.

So I’ve never admitted this to anyone, ever, but truth is that KV sort of looks like a bastard boss I used to have. This is disturbing on many levels, not the least of which is the haunting shadow image of my boss pounding his fist mercilessly into the naked cock of some poor, outclassed opponent. In this case, KV was beating the living daylights out of also-aptly named Skrapper (especially his cock) in Sexy Showdown 5: Florida Fun. I’m repeating myself when I say that KV is possibly the most accomplished master of connecting all the dots in homoerotic wrestling competing today. I’m also repeating myself when I say that Skrapper continues to catch me by surprise by how arousing I find his wrestling.

So there you have it. While jobberinnyc didn’t go the extra mile and name the opponents for yesterday’s quiz, he is nevertheless homoerotic wrestling fan #1 in the realm of neverland, at least for this week. Keep playing. Keep studying those homoerotic wrestlers, especially the ones with gorgeous asses, awe-inspiring cocks, and delightful tattoos, and maybe next week you’ll jump to the head of the class!

A Fan Favorite

April 22, 2011July 1, 2013 wrestlebard4 Comments

Yesterday I celebrated Brook Stetson, co-owner of my homoerotic wrestler of the month title. Today, at the risk of repeating myself, I turn to Brook’s partner in crime, the other co-owner of my homoerotic wrestler of the month title, Mitch Colby.

Mitch was a running feature obsession in this blog almost from the beginning. When he debuted for BG East in Alexi Adamov’s Wrestler Spotlight tape, I was instantly a fanatic. Drop dead gorgeous, strong as an ox, and glistening with sweat, there’s nothing that I don’t like about Mitch’s physique. But it was always something more, something unexpected that Mitch brought to the table that has made me never be able to take my eyes off of him when he wrestles.

It’s his maturity, by which I do not mean some asinine euphemism for his age. True, he showed up on the scene a decade or two later than some of the youngest bucks that vie for our attention in the homoerotic wrestling world, but frankly that’s neither here nor there for me. Mitch possesses a chilled calmness, an unflappability, a stone cold centeredness that reflects a mature soul. I mean, let’s face it, it’s hard to out-pretty Alexi Adamov. But Mitch is every ounce as gorgeous, as far as I’m concerned, and he’s a good bit sexier because he seems to understand exactly who he is at every moment, no matter what the trash talk and mind games his opponents toss his way. The way Mitch puts Alexi in his place and leaves him flat on his back in the gazebo is all sorts of pleasing.

I won’t try to give a comprehensive blow by blow of Mitch’s career because, let’s face it, that’s been an ongoing labor of love throughout the nearly two years of this blog. Rather, let me note the highlights that taught me something new about the big, beautiful Mitch. For example, after a hard, sweaty gazebo battle with pretty boy Alexi, things turned down right nasty for him when he climbed into the wrestling ring against one of BG East’s resident bad boys, ripped stud Cole Cassidy, in Ringwars 15. Sadly, this is Mitch’s only appearance to-date in the ring. Perhaps the seriously vicious beating he took at Cole’s expert hands (and particularly the torture Mitch’s pecs took in Cole’s claws) left Mitch with PTSD for ring action. Mitch works some nice offense in on the little powerhouse, but when it comes to decimating and displaying a big, hard hunk, there’s arguably no one better than Cole. Happily, Mitch proves that he can suffer and take a beating like that hard, ripped body of his would imply.

Mitch’s first motel match was notable for me, particularly, because he squared off with Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!) in Motel Madness 7. Yes, the reigning top contender for my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy went toe-to-toe with the reigning top contender for my favorite homoerotic wrestler – nonpornboy division. Mitch’s physique is simply perfect in this match, and I don’t blame him a bit for allowing Mr. J to maneuver him into position to shove that massively packed crotch of his into Mitch’s face.

My next stop on Mitch’s memory lane is another motel match, in which Mitch showed what he would do if BG East dangled a little bit of fluff in his face, by which I mean twink delight, Jeremy Burk, in Motel Madness 8. This is classic big v little wrestling, and I’m on the record repeatedly as partial to that scenario. What makes this match hit my list of must mentions about Mitch are two things, really. 1) This is a fantastically erotic match that’s expertly paced. Some squashes are downright boring, but there’s nothing at all boring about Mitch’s systematic pummeling of Jeremy. It gets hotter, more painful, more humiliating, and sexier with every passing moment. And 2) this was my first peek at Mitch naked. After crushing Jeremy, Mitch takes his little piece of fluff to the bathroom where they peel out of their gear and explore one another’s bodies in and out of the shower. My fetishistic lust to scrub Mitch down from head to toe with a thick, slick coat of lathered soap probably belongs on a different fetish blog, but suffice it to say, I’m bitterly envious of Jeremy.

Back to the Florida sunroom, and my next notable highlight of Mitch in action is his sweat-fest with Skrapper in Catchweight 3. Seems that Mitch has a taste for the lightweights, and despite putting up some serious offense, Skrapper was always destined to be schoolboy pinned with Mitch’s sweaty crotch shoved in his face. What stands out from this match, however, is the post-match pool play. Mitch fireman-carries his twink out of the sunroom (with Skrapper slyly copping a feel of Mitch’s glutes along the way… I tell you, that Skrapper impresses me!), and then tosses the spent punk into the pool. One last bearhug in the middle of the pool turns from a device for inflicting pain into a passionate embrace, as they make out enthusiastically. Many, many more homoerotic wrestling matches should end this way.

The same Florida sunroom is the setting for a true epiphany in Mitch’s resume. He takes matters firmly in hand against Derek da Silva in Crotch Crushers 1, tapping into his sadist side to beat, pound, claw and, indeed, crush Derek’s testicles. In addition to being the first time I saw Mitch really grab hold of his opponent’s manhood, it’s also memorable because it was right around this release that Derek stole the title as my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy from Mitch for a brief time. The contrast of short, pale and hairy muscleboy v tall, tanned, and smooth muscleboy is aesthetically stunning.

It was the release of Mitch’s Wrestler Spotlight tape that helped Mitch rip his inaugural title belt away from Derek and slap the hairy Italian into second place. Most specifically, it was Mitch’s matroom sweat fest with Patrick Donovan that turned my affections decisively back to Mitch. This match is profoundly arousing from start to finish, but it’s the bearhug competition right in the middle that makes my heart pump hardest. Patrick and Mitch are in the same league when it comes to almost everything… height, weight, good looks, fit physiques, wrestling skill, and maturity. So it’s that much more climactic when Mitch once and for all puts the veteran down, climbs on top, and locks lips with the loser.

A few months after Mitch regained his title as my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy, he lost it in stunningly fast fashion against the wickedly nasty stylings of Rusty Stevens. From the realm of Naked Kombat and Can-Am, Rusty managed to grab my attention and hold on with both hands. Mitch slid into the top contender spot behind Rusty’s razor sharp trash talking and primal determination to dominate his opponents. So when BG East, just a few months later, released the Breaking Point: Sexiest, in which Rusty and Mitch have it out in the Florida sunroom, I was in awe. This was my fantasy come to life. I mean, most homoerotic wrestling is in one way or another my fantasies played out for me, but this was quite specifically and particularly my fantasy of pornboy v pornboy wrestling. While Mitch came out on top (at the same moment Rusty was cumming from the underneath), I had to say decisively that it was Rusty who aroused me most in this match, primarily on what is undeniably his #1 strength: his witty trash talk and delight in dishing out humiliation. It was a battle for the ages, but Mitch was relegated to stick it out in second place in my rankings.

And then last month, BG East released Mitch’s most recent match for Sunshine Shooters 4, which earned him the homoerotic wrestler of the month co-title. Mitch is also currently in possession of the top contender spot for my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy yet again, chomping at Trent Diesel’s gorgeous ass to take the title for the third time. Regardless, however, Mitch will always be a favorite, and wherever he is at any particular moment in the rankings of my favorites, I will always be a Mitch fanatic.

Bard in Chaps

April 20, 2011July 1, 2013 wrestlebard1 Comment

Brook Stetson charged his way into my first ever tie for homoerotic wrestler of the month this month, for his stunning work with co-title holder, Mitch Colby, in BG East’s Sunshine Shooters 4. I don’t think of myself as someone on the lookout for a bear daddy, but damn it all, Brook’s raw, rough, hairy sexiness is impossible to miss and seriously difficult to resist.

Sunshine Shooters 4 was my first introduction to Brook, despite his prior appearances with BG East. Of course, his tats speak to me, not to mention his thick, gorgeous muscles. But his incredible strength and fierce, irrepressible will crush and dominate Mitch is fantastic homoeroticism. He sprinkles in an expertly measured amount of cocky, humiliating banter and quarts of sweat making his skin glisten underneath his thick, sexy body hair. Often, I watch an arousing homoerotic wrestling match and can’t help but transport myself in place of one wrestler or the other, but in this case, I can’t decide who I’d rather be: Brook taking such commanding possession of Mitch’s toned, beautiful body, or Mitch, throwing everything he’s got at the behemoth in front of him and getting smacked down, and pinned underneath Brook’s hot body over and over.

Now that I’ve got a taste for Brook, I’ll need to sample his delightful resume. His mat beating of Tony Vencini looks remarkably sexy. Knowing what a sweat-pig (said lovingly) that Tony is, I have to guess that my taste for sweaty homoerotic wrestling muscles will be satiated by Mat Brats 2.

While I know that there are many of us that don’t get off on a squash, I’m always nursing a knee-jerk lust for a big v little wrestling session. Therefore, Catchweight 2, in which 145 pound Skrapper steps bravely onto the mat with 240 pound Brook, looks like a match-up made-to-order. For that matter, Skrapper’s stock has been seriously on the rise in my estimation lately (dare I say a potential lightweight contender to the favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy ranks?), but this post is about Brook, so let me just say that the Brook’s look of self-satisfied glee as he sits on Skrapper’s face and twists his tasty body like a twist-tie is deeply provocative.

Marco Guerra appears to have gotten some good licks in (metaphorically) on the big, big Brook in Sunshine Shooters 2. A big, brutally handsome, hairy hunk getting worked over is quite an impressive sight. The sight of Brook with his ego bruised, roaring back to reassert his physical dominance is also seriously arousing.

Commenting on Brook’s earning homoerotic-wrestler-of-the-month, Steve Paris helpfully pointed to some golden oldies in which Brook starred in early BG matches, wrestling as Brad Michaels. Tatless and significantly less brutish, Brook/Brad still had that unmistakably superhero/supervillain, square jaw and Marlboro Man handsomeness. And speaking of licks (literally) Steve and Joe commend High Stakes Wrestling 3 for some full-contact, no inch left unexposed homoerotic wrestling from a young Brook/Brad.

You can also snag some early Brook/Brad in BG’s Fantasy Fight 11, squaring off and unmistakably outweighed and outmuscled by his opponent, Chace Caldwell.

He also appeared in a barn-burner rip-n-strip against the classic Ren Adams in BG’s Rip ‘n Strip Wrestling 1.

My final find of Brook-as-Brad is from Zeus studios, in which he stars in Sex Wrestling 3. Here he appears to work up a fantastic sweat in a nasty give and take against BG East veteran, Dane Tarsen. I’m not sure about the timeline, but it looks to me like Sex Wrestling documents the metamorphosis of Brad into hairy, bear daddy Brook, when it comes to character, at least.

To be honest, I felt like perhaps I was copping out when it came to naming my homoerotic wrestler of the month title as a tie this time around. I mean, Mitch is not only the top contender to re-take the title of my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy, but he’s always perfectly tuned to my wrestling kink tastes in both form and function. But with an entirely different form and a distinctly unique function, Brook absolutely earns his fair share of the title this month. Not only does Brook ignite my lust, he also incites a barely acknowledged bear cub fantasy within me that tempts me to leather up for Pride this summer. Indeed, he’s entirely worthy, and his body of work (not to mention his body) is world class.