To keep things shiny, I’m trying out a new hashtag: #TwoOnOneTuesday. No one loves a little alliteration as much as I do. Well, I know of one particular homoerotic wrestling producer who does, but other than that, I suspect alliteration tickles me more than you (which reminds me, I think there ought to be more tickling in homoerotic wrestling!). In any case, Two-On-One-Tuesdays may, or may not, end up being a thing. You can let me know what you think in the comments. But so far I like it. There’s something particularly sexy about seeing a couple of mates manhandling and mastering a muscleman, making him moan and milking his misery.
Possibly the first 2-on-1 match that I got off on was the Tag Team Torture 2 match where Jeff Phoenix’ partner was a no show. There was no mention of who the son of a bitch was who abandoned this bulging, blue eyed, blond beefcake to face notorious heels Jose and Cruz alone. Wouldn’t that have been a sensational grudge match sequel, when Jeff beat the living fuck out of the traitor!? Jeff held his own for a while against this 2-on-1, just long enough to make the coverboy cocky, which turns Jose and Cruz’ double team demolition that much sweeter.
The bitter divorce of Jonny Firestorm and Calvin Haynes’ tag team led instantly to the sensationally sexy double-team of Calvinby Jonny and his rebound partner, pretty-pretty Royce Perry. I’ve nursed this fantasy pretty much every time I’ve had a rough break-up. Seriously, I always have this exact fantasy of meeting my ex in a wrestling ring, revealing the mouth-wateringly hot new model I traded up for, and the two of us beating him down, turning him on, and leaving him with blue balls. Just me?
Over at W4H, sexy go-go boy Christian Thorn apparently took so many brutally one-sided beatings that Cameron arranged for him to take some wrestling lessons from pro hunks Ronny Pearl and Teddy Trouble. What could go wrong? The classy pros put the pretty boy through his paces, but perhaps it’s too much of a good thing. Double-teamers take notes: 2-on-1 babyface jobber crushing can go wildly off the rails if you can’t get on the same page with your partner.
It’s another pro vs. Instahunk story when Joey King takes advantage of his extensive experience to humble bodybuilder Steel in Rough & Ready 103. But Joey’s simmering feud with that other Instahunk, Scrappy, comes back to bite him in his lovely, round ass, when Scrapster joins the fray. So, sure, I can totally tune in to pretty muscleboy posers working up a head of steam on a bad ass pro.
Regular readers will recognize this tendency I have to get totally infatuated with a particular wrestler who may, or may not, be objectively more notable than anyone else. And there we have Weekend Wrestling’s Pretty Boy Assassin. I don’t know exactly what it is that turns my crank quite as hard as he does, but I’m screaming to tag in with him when he’s getting double teamedby his official opponent, Brendan Byers, and WW’s boss man Cole Cassidy. Fuck, now I’ve got a fierce rescue fantasy churning away. Just one more way a two-on-one can turn me on!
Let me know what you think about #TwoOnOneTuesdays, and if they should stay on the menu.
Mr. Mike at Thunder’s Arena thought I’d enjoy reviewing a copy of Battlespace 89, featuring a bodybuilder showdown between babyface muscle giant Steel and pint sized muscleman Dolph. Well played, sir. Well played.
It’s not like Steel is actually a giant. He’s right on the money for the average height of men in the United States, at just over 5’9″. But at 5’6″ Dolph makes the doll faced Superboy look pretty towering. The newer kid on the block, Dolph takes the initiative by flexing for fans before Steel shows up. Fuck, he’s gorgeous. I sort of hate his facial hair, but that’s easy enough to fix with a Queer Eye intervention. But shit, those gargantuan biceps! And don’t even get me started on his spectacular, round, all beef muscled ass. There’s something raw and spontaneous about his choice to wrestle in relatively utilitarian Calvin Klein mid-rise briefs. As if he hadn’t planned on wrestling today. He just happened to be hanging out at the Thunder’s compound with the bros, and Steel needed an opponent, and Dolph instantly dropped trou and smirked, “Let’s go,” in phenomenal, camera ready shape at all times. When Steel arrives, he takes some long, tense seconds to check out Dolph’s muscles. Finally, even competitive bodybuilder Steel has to concede that Dolph’s muscles “aren’t bad.”
There’s not a lot of erotic tension in this match at all, which is no surprise for a Thunder’s match. It feels more like Straight Guys for Queer Eyes: Wrestling Version, than a more forward homoerotic wrestling tale. But what most explicitly signals this is for gay eyes, I think, is mostly the pre-match posedown. One man taking his time, silently watching, appraising another man’s flexing physique just isn’t something I think of straight dudes doing all on their own. Dolph pumps out a most muscular, and Steel’s pecs bounce as if in reply. Dolph’s pecs bounce back, like some subliminal conversation at a frequency that only gay wrestling fans can hear.
I don’t actually know the sexual orientation of either of these muscle men, but their pose down brings to my mind how often straight physique stars assume that everything we want to ogle is in the front. They compare double bicep poses, most musculars, lat spreads, quads… everything without turning their backs to the camera. I have a longstanding theory that straight guys performing for gay eyes often skip turning around because, usually unconsciously, it makes them feel vulnerable to know that we’re lusting after their asses. Fortunately, this is wrestling, so we get to see their hot, muscled asses from multiple angles over the course of the next 17 minutes or so.
Steel breaks a sweat just posing. Fuck, I love a man who works himself into a lather. Dolph notices and chides him for it. “Can’t imagine how tired you get wrestling,” he taunts. Um, Dolph? Fuck you. This wrestling fan goes crazy for liberally lubricated muscles, and your odd inability to work up a sweat is not value added. Fortunately, Steel sweats enough for the both of them throughout this match. Dolph gets coated in his opponent’s perspiration, which as far as I’m concerned is lucky for him.
The wrestling is pretty much what I’d expect from guys this fucking huge. There’s not a lot speed or finesse. Mostly power move after power move, buttoned up holds battling against massive muscles bulging to escape. Steel has a significant reach advantage. Dolph seems to exploit a lower center of gravity. It’s more like battleships maneuvering in the open sea than spitfire dueling. But once those epically huge muscles latch on, the battle for those fractions of an inch between submitting and escaping are sensationally slow, grinding, and sexy to watch. The scissors and armbars beautifully feed my well documented lust for big, powerful, meaty, sweaty thighs.
So I like to have a favorite in a match, and a third of the way through, I’m still wavering. On the one hand, I do love the angle of a “little” guy (hard to call Dolph little) taking it to a big, cocky boy like Steel. On the other hand, Steel’s pecs are spectacular, seriously outclassing Dolph’s lush chest. Then again, Dolph’s ass is mind blowing, like, muscleboy porn star quality, absolutely putting Steel’s hard, taut glutes to shame. But then again, Steel is the better wrestler here. He leads Dolph through a series of tit for tats (Steel applies leg scissors, Dolph escapes, and then Dolph applies leg scissors… not quite as convincingly). And I’ve already mentioned the sweat advantage. It’s a close call, but I’m naming Steel my boy. As the action unfolds, more and more I’m wanting to see Steel crack this beast like a nut.
So I’m about to pop my cork when, about halfway through the battle of the big boys, Steel snaps those sequoias around Dolph’s head and just stands there, absolutely immobilizing Mighty Mouse. It’s like Hester Pryne pilloried. Dolph is on his knees, trying to pry apart that vise. Good fucking luck, buddy. The only thing that could make this sexier is me there, pulling down those trunks and blowing Steel’s rod as he doesn’t even need to break a sweat keeping that prideful sinner suffering between his knees.
Dolph does not like an ego bruising. He punishes Superboy with a rear bearhug, hanging all that soaking muscle out to dry. It’s huge and powerful and stunning to watch. 4/5ths of the way through the match, and it’s Dolph working up momentum, and I feel a little guilty, because I’m really, really enjoying watching Steel outmuscled and suffering. There’s a thick man-tames-boy vibe when Dolph starts taking charge, flexing for the camera, getting enough distance between them to showboat with impunity.
I know there’s choreography involved in the double handed suspended choke, but it still makes my crotch stir watching Steel wrap his hands around Dolph’s thick, thick neck and hoist him into the air. So dominating. So huge and powerful. When Dolph squeezes his knees into Steel’s tiny hips, his muscled ass hanging there looks so vulnerable. So fuckable. I’m instantly back to aching to see Steel break him down and put a stamp on him to ship him to me. All of Steel’s sweat making them both shine. His (arguably) bigger muscles holding Mighty Mouse in mid-air. I’m convinced again that Steel’s my boy.
And then, holy fuck, Dolph returns the favor. He has to lean backward a bit more because of the height disadvantage, but no shit, he straight arms Superboy off his feet. Fuck. I want to be a Steel booster here. I want to want to see him dazzle and awe the little muscle man with the bad facial hair. But he looks so sensationally shocked hanging there like the laundry. Dolph is on fire. He slams boy wonder to the mat with contempt and flexes, and I’m racked with guilt because I want to see him do it again to the babyfaced boy of Steel.
Instead, he gorilla presses Steel overhead. This is about 17 minutes into the muscle contest. How the fuck does he still have the strength to do that?! He’s superhuman and insanely sexy. He owns Superboy. He wears him out. My head tells me I should be concerned for Steel. I should be worried that Dolph took this too far, that some sense of fair play should have propelled Steel’s objectively superior, beautiful muscle body to victory. But as so often happens, all I can think is, fuck, I love that brutal bad ass flexing over top of him.
So you should be able to tell that I bring a ton of homoerotic heat to this match that Dolph and Steel, on their own, don’t. The holds are a little sloppy, but the aesthetics of all of that close up, gargantuan, bulging muscle on muscle pretty effectively distracts from that. The final hold is far more compelling in my imagination than it is on the screen. The press shouldn’t knock him out. He moves too much when he hits the mat. It feels more like they reached the 20 minute mark and someone called “cut” from behind the camera. But all of that said, I won’t lie, these muscle beasts got me off. This sends me scurrying back to the Thunder’s Arena website to check out more, and of course the ring match between these same two titans instantly catches my eye.
Thunder’s has some of the biggest fantasymen in the business, as far as I can tell, and these two are sensational representatives of what Thunder’s is doing so well these days. I’d be a broken record to say again that this would work 20 times more effectively for me if these guys just appreciated each other’s bodies a fraction more, just acknowledged a little more explicitly that there are gay eyes lapping up all of that sweat and muscle and domination. But for what it is, it’s hot, mega muscle magic.
We’re so close to award season and nostalgic retrospectives of the year in review that I can taste it. Remember 2016, back in more innocent times? After Obergefell, but before Emperor Palpatine was elected as Supreme Chancellor by the gullible representatives of the Galactic Republic? I think I’ll always look back on 2016 as good old days. But as we prepare our hearts and minds for the supremely sobering task of registering our votes for homoerotic wrestling favorites in this era when winners and losers all admit that democracy is a sham, I want to offer a send up to a category that we seem to never get to vote on. Best legs.
I sort of assume I’m one of about 4 gay wrestling fans who seriously get off on hot, powerful legs. This assumption is based on several pieces of evidence. For one, as I mentioned, there’s never a category in the year-end polls for legs. Asses, sure, but anything at lower altitude is always neglected. Further, scanning the “muscle” section of BG East’s Arena galleries, I find that there are literally 21 galleries devoted to abdominal muscles, more than 15 galleries highlighting arms (and most of the generic galleries are all about biceps), and at least 10 galleries specifically about pectoral muscles. Look closely for legs, and I can find 2 galleries, and most of the pics don’t even include full length looks at wrestlers’ legs. I have to deduce that there simply is not a raging market obsessed with wrestlers’ legs the way that I am, because otherwise, the industry would pay much more attention to hot, sexy legs.
I’ve bitched before about the way that cameras consistently dissect wrestlers at mid-thigh or higher, as if the only objects of erotic lust exist north of there. There are billions of close-up pics of pumped, peaked biceps filling the camera frame. Side chest poses and most muscular poses draw the gaze irresistibly to big, bulging, pumped torsos, but 9 times out of 10, those pin-up beefcake shots crop out 75% of a wrestler’s legs (there’s lots of math there, sorry). So I concede that I must be a rare breed who swoons like a Victorian at the sight of full, powerful, pumped quads and thick, broad calves. When we’re treated to hot shots of scissors and leg chokes, apparently the rest of you are fixated on some element other than those sexy as fuck legs pulsing with punishing power. Clearly, I must be the only one with a running fantasy (starring an ever revolving cast for the male lead) of having my erect cock squeezed to climax between the rock hard quads of a wrestler with killer lower body credentials.
Of course, as with everything, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Personally, I like legs strong, which means that hot legs can come in different proportions and sizes and still check my box. This also means that the degree to which a pair of legs may turn me on is likely (and I’m sure often is) enhanced by the sell of their opponent. But as for sheer aesthetics, I can’t get enough of big, thick quads with massive, low hanging tear drops. I particularly key off on legs with monster quads and multi-headed, shapely calves stacking up a rock hard foundation.
For the 12 or so of us who would, if offered, lap up more focus on hot, sexy legs in this business, I thought I’d offer a send up to the homoerotic wrestling legs that grabbed my attention in 2016. Just for kicks, I’m including a poll on the BG East contenders highlighted below. Someone is going to bitch about the whole thing being rigged. Probably it’ll be the winner. What the fuck ever. Who did I miss?
So let’s take a look at the BG East boys whose legs made me do a double take and whip out my notepad. In alphabetical order. Vote below.
It’s taken a few weeks, but I’m thrilled to report that I’ve relocated chez Bard to greener pastures. My life is still mostly in boxes, but internet is up an running, so all is right with the world again. I’ve had the opportunity to watch just a little homoerotic wrestling during the transition, and I’ve got some exciting features and interviews in the pipeline. For today, though, I’ll just call out the eye catching new release teasers that have been making me salivate. As I’ve mused about before, there’s something a little magical about that liminal time between the first glimpse of marketing of new homoerotic wrestling matches and the moment of putting eyes on the product itself. I’m still consuming about 75% of my wrestling in DVD format, so that enticing moment of promise and anticipation can stretch at least a few days as the US Postal Service makes its way to my door (happily, that distance is considerably shorter for most of my favorite wrestling producers after this last move). Sometimes the marketing inspires my imagination in ways that the actual product never quite matches, but sometimes I’m particularly pleased to be caught by surprise, thrown a twist, or simply served up exactly the titillating, provocative wrestling fare that my heart desired. In the last couple of weeks, the following new releases have been tweaking my fantasies, and being between addresses has meant the opportunity to suck down that gratification has been even more delayed. What follows are the tried and true favorites of mine, and every match mentioned below features a hunk I’ve named homoerotic wrestler of the month in the past. I’m sure you’ll see reviews of at least some of these in the coming weeks as I settle into my new home and new routine, but for now, just the first glimpses catching my eye.
First of all, this tag team in the opening match of Tag Team Torture 19 is spinning me right round. I haven’t felt a good scratching of my ongoing itch for hot, erotic tag team wrestling in a long time, and the pairing of sensationally handsome and ripped veteran Christian Taylor (former homoerotic wrestler of the month around here) with lovely, lithe newbie and fan of neverland, Charlie Evans, could be just what the doctor ordered.
Increasing my anticipation of this Tag Team Torture 19 match are Christian and Charlie’s opponents. Of course, I sit up and take notice when one of my boybanders, Ty Alexander, climbs into the ring, looking fitter and finer than ever. But his fan-turned-tag partner Chase Addams could very well need to join the band. Newbie heels are are a hard sell for me, though, so the jury is out as to whether the new kid’s marketed phenomenal attitude and ring skills will make me want to throw my underwear at him.
Sticking with TTT19 for just a tad longer, don’t think it escaped my notice that daddy-of-my-dreams and former HWOTM Matt Thrasher has made his BG East debut! I’ve fallen deep for daddy Matt since the first glimpse I got of him at MDW. I’m rigid with anticipation of what BGE might make of this salt and pepper muscleman.
Two boybanders in one match!? Ah, hell yes! You’d think Ring Releases 4 was a custom match I ordered, featuring my long time infatuation Drake Marcos and heel pup Kayden Keller. Drake keeps begging for another shot at taking me on in the ring, so I’m always keenly interested in watching the endless ways that his opponents break him apart piece by piece. I have high expectations that Kayden’s work here will be inspiring and devastating.
I’m also a Denny Cartier fanatic. I’ve named him homoerotic wrestler of the month at least twice that I can remember off the top of my head. There’s something raw and real about Denny, with a look that makes me weak in the knees and mat wrestling skills that bring me at full attention every fucking time. I don’t know if Chace LaChance is too much muscle and ego to handle, but damn, I’m eager to see Denny give it a go.
Also from Chace’s Spotlight, Jake Jenkins. Need I say more? I’ve been on team Jake from the start, and I’ve never failed to be fully satisfied and completely exhausted with every match I’ve seen of his. He has a dismal record in the BG East ring, making me worry about his prospects against Chace is this match, but his size and acrobatics combined with Chace’s muscle mass, leaves me anticipating a lot of gasping, awe and orgasms.
I’ve been off the Thunder’s Arena rotation for a while now, but the tempting teaser of another look at drop-dead gorgeous Eagle stomping the living shit out of Z-Man is one of a couple of strong motivators for climbing back into the arena again. Eagle was one of the rare newbies to convince me to make him homoerotic wrestler of the month, and I’m wanting to see what the sophomore year has in store for the beefcake.
The other motivator is the prospect of sampling Thunder’s new babyface bodybuilder Steel up against fitter than ever (how is that even possible!?) Marco, yet another HWOTM. Guys built as magnificently as Steel have a dismal track record when it comes to homoerotic wrestling, in my book at least. I still hold out hope for a second coming of Steve Sterling, a juicy, impeccably crafted bodybuilder who really takes to the genre with enthusiasm and promise. Even if he’s just eye candy, he’s in phenomenal hands in this match.
Can’t wait to dig in, and of course I’ll let you know what I think (as if you could stop me). It’ll probably still be a little while of unpacking and settling in before I hit my stride here again, but I’m looking forward to comparing notes with you soon.