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Tickled Breathless

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From the world of bizarre, comes a story of a disgraced U.S. Congressman who has resigned his office under allegations that he groped his male staff members. No, it’s not that the New York Democrat is married with two children that makes this story so strange (not at all, in fact). It’s not even that this guy has suddenly started telling the story of Rahm Emanuel cornering him, naked, in the shower to strong arm him into voting for the President’s health care agenda…

Just wait a minute while my heart stops racing from imagining Rahm Emmanuel naked, in the shower, strong arming someone…. I’d wrestle that man for the soap anywhere, anytime.
Okay, no, no, it’s not any of this that makes this story truly bizarre. The truly bizarre bit is that this guy goes on a rabidly conservative [insane] television “news-ish” show to talk about the whole thing, in which he explains that not only did he grope a male staffer, but he tickled this employee “until he couldn’t breathe, and then four guys jumped on top of me.” And now he’s astonished to have been charged with sexual harassment.
Oh no, there couldn’t be ANYTHING sexual about that scenario (how’s that for sarcasm, Joe?). On an entirely unrelated topic, I was thumbing through Can-Am’s tickle-fetish catalog and thinking to myself, what sort of sick fuck gets into this crap?
I guess now we know. Should’ve guessed it was the straight guys with wives and children downstairs. (My apologies to you tickle fetish boys out there. You can tie me down and tickle me to teach me a lesson).

Runaway Train

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Just between you and me, I really hate the word horny. It lacks imagination. It suggests to me a state of hormonal overload that’s divorced from the most erotic tool that we have: our imaginations. I think of horny as a state of animal impulse that doesn’t necessarily even take pleasure in and of itself. It’s a drive that’s satisfied by emotionless physics and physiology: friction, blood flow, and the release of bodily fluids. The joy of eroticism for me is that it’s so much more than that. Still…

I’m so horny this morning! Holy shit, I’m ridiculously at the mercy of my libido. I can hardly type.
Is it the approach of Spring? Is it the cycles of the moon? Damn, I’m about absolutely nothing more than friction, blood flow and bodily fluids right now.
Before I blow a gasket, I’ll wrap this up with one final thought. Even at the mercy of my libido, I’m passionately drawn to the image of the erotic fighter. This runaway train isn’t about to stop for anything, but what seriously stokes the fire even at this moment is the muscled body poised for erotic combat. I’m always capable of taking care of these matters myself, which I will take my leave this morning to do. But tonight, my friends, I have a date with a musclehunk who has no idea that our regular grappling session is going to be supercharged.
Seriously, I gotta go.

New Kids on the Block

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I’m not sure when matmuscle.com came online, but they have three fighters featured in three matches. The $24.95 download price for a 16 minute bout is a bit too steep for my socioeconomic status, but more power to those who are happy to pay up. Fortunately, the masterminds at matmuscle have loaded some short teasers on YouTube to give me a taste of what I’m missing.

I’ll cut right to the chase. The match pitting tanned modelboy Aaron against pale, shaved head bodybuilder Bill immediately caught my eye. Matmuscle seems to have a quirky business model, in that they seem to take pride in finding guys who’ve never wrestled before (as well as mat veterans, though I don’t know if they’ve shown evidence of that yet). They promise that despite Aaron and Bill being complete novices, these muscle studs are full of promise.
By the look of the Bill v Aaron teaser, I can believe that neither of these guys have wrestled before. Aaron looks a little more mat savvy and quick on his feet. Bill looks like he has no idea what’s happening, which could make for a sweet story line if his huge, hard body was being set up for some intense initiation. My sense from the teaser is that this is not really the story here, though.
Still, these two bodies are fantastic, and the posing pouch gear is fun to watch. Aaron in particular has his pouch swinging for the rafters as he bounces and bobs his way along. Matmuscle is looking (and by the looks of it, need) more wrestlers. So I’m nominating you, fine reader, to sign up. I have no idea where these boys are located. I tried contacting them for more info, but their contact-server is a dead-end. But I think that you should remain persistent. Get on the roster and squeeze Bill’s bald head between your thighs until he gasps in pain. Maybe we’ll meet up there. And then both of us can tell the front office that $24.95 per 16 minute download isn’t a sustainable business model.

Still More Olympic Spirit

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Closing ceremonies are this weekend, but the winter Olympics are just now seriously heating up. Of course the formal competition has been hard hitting, but I’m referring to stumbling across an homage to the beauty of the American winter Olympian bodies. In answer to the inspiring photo shoot of Canadian hardbodies, the Americans have this provocative answer.
The flag bearer for the team of American hunks is gold medalist snowboard crosser, Seth Wescott. Fantastic look here for Seth, with his low risers revealing the underwear and that solid, sculpted torso on display underneath his unbuttoned dress shirt. I simply have to imagine that Seth would be the one to slam Canadian snowboard crosser, Rob Fagan, in the center of the ring and then relish the joy of making him scream in pain as Seth drags him by his hair to have his head driven into each and every turnbuckle. Gold medalist, indeed.
Snowboard halfpiper, Louie Vito is built for pro-wrestling. Despite being only 5’4″, he’s got the look of a fabulous heel. He’s the champion sagger here, with his happy trail knocking at the door, and he’s displaying his fine ink with a cocky I’ll-soon-have-your-head-crushed-against-this-bicep look to him. In head to head, body to body competition with, say, naked Canadian freestyle skier Kyle Nissen, I’d have to give the edge to Louie delivering some acrobatic arial assaults that lay poor Kyle out cold. Then, of course, Louie would do an air guitar routine to celebrate, with his knee pinning the Canadian’s chest.
Silver medal ice dancer Charlie White has a seductive, sexy hunk babyface air about him here. Can’t you just picture him climbing through the ropes with his naive “good will win out” grin on his face as he pumps his fist, mugging for the crowd? How much more delightful it would be to see Canadian Warren Shouldice dive through the ropes and destroy the blond hero in complete humiliation. Warren’s over the knee backbreaker would set a fine table for a smorgasbord of torso punishment on the suffering babyface. Canadians would definitely claim a gold, bringing the medal count to 2-1 for the Americans.
Cross country skier Andy Newell also has a babyface hero look about him, which is ominous to see for those rooting for the Americans in this competition. Andy’s body looks lickable and good for light reading. He must have impressively sized balls to explain his showing off his modest bicep so proudly. I think Andy would put up an impressive fight against Canadian freestyle skier, Ryan Blais. In fact, I think this would be a close fought battle that would grow progressively nastier as babyface heroes get increasingly frustrated and decide to take short cuts that bend the rules. In the end, though, I’m picturing Andy dazed and disoriented following a series of a half dozen snap suplexes, allowing Ryan to hook the leg, get the 3 count, and then spit in Andy’s stunned face. Who knew the Canadians could get so fierce and nasty? Apparently making the medal count even at 2-2 is driving the boys from the North to new lows.
Oh my. Talk about babyfaces. 19 year old American speed skater, JR Celski looks like a lamb heading the slaughter here. Sadly, this pic is prior to JR’s fantastic pec ink that he put on display after a race in Vancouver recently, but still, it’s provocative to see the young stud looking like he’s about to jump right out of those jeans. Unfortunately for eager-beaver JR, if he were to find himself in the ring with Canadian speed skater, Francois-Olivier Roberge, he’d be nothing but a plaything for the Canadian. This would have the crowd aching for Francois-Olivier to put the kid out of his misery, but the Canadian would be sadistically prolonging the humiliation by yanking JR up by the hair repeatedly on the 2 counts. I think the Canadian would finally and decisively deliver the message that Canada is in it to win it with a bouncing, smiling torture rack. Canada would be up 3-2.

The final hope for the Americans to keep this respectable would rest in the hands of figure skater Evan Lysacek. I have to admit, I was a little surprised at just how hot Even looks here, including the provocative lightening tattoo pointing to his moneymaker. As evidenced by Evan’s gold medal performance in Vancouver, he is one cool cat when under pressure. Face to face with young Canadian speed skater Denny Morrison, I’m picturing Evan launching a highly scientific breakdown of the Canadian with patience and precision. Babyface Denny would be struggling to keep up, but Evan would stay one step ahead of him, concentrating on high impact moves to the lower back to leave young Denny writhing in pain and helpless to defend himself. All the momentum would be swinging Evan’s way, as he schoolboy pinned struggling Denny to his back in the center of the ring. Denny would struggle to pull his shoulders free, but the ref would count: 1… 2…. But just as overconfident Evan pumped out a double bicep to seal the deal, Denny would hook his gargantuan legs under Evan’s shoulders, flipping the American to his back and leveraging his superhuman quads to pin Evan’s back to the canvas for a shocking 3 count.

Whew! This is the competition I’ve been waiting for! The Americans fielded a fantastic team, but the Canadian’s managed to come out on top in 4 decisive victories. Go Canada!

More Olympic Spirit

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So I don’t actually know what the magazine Chatelaine is suppose to be about, but it’s my new favorite publication in the world. You do not have to be a Canadian woman to eat up what they’re serving with their expose’ of naked Canadian winter Olympic hunks. Until I can find a similar treasure trove for other nations, Canada officially is fielding my very favorite winter Olympic team of athletes. Take freestyle skier Warren Shouldice shown above… better yet, leave him all for me.
Another Candian freestyle skier, Ryan Blais, is sporting that “oh-you-caught-me-in-my-underwear-and-ski-boots” pose. It turns out, Ryan didn’t make the Canadian team, despite kicking major freestyle skier ass (speaking of, I think Ryan’s got a fantastically muscled one). I would be willing to offer my consolation and sympathy in whatever form Ryan would like. But the ski boots are not coming to bed.
Rob Fagan of snowboard cross is made for the ring, if you ask me. Those pecs need some serious pounding, and that mop of hair is asking to get yanked as he’s dragged from turnbuckle to turnbuckle.
Kyle Nissen, seen here strategically placed behind his freestyle skis, looks to me like he’s got attitude… and that he doesn’t manscape too much. Both of those are hot qualities in a winter Olympian, if you ask me. Put down the skis, Kyle, and remove the gloves.

Finally, long-track speed skater, Francois-Olivier Roberge illustrates why speed skaters make me so delirious. Sadly, Francois-Olivier’s legs are cut off in this pic, but the thickness of his right quad and the shape of that left glute are hinting at the world class wonders of a speed skater’s anatomy that bring me such joy.

Only 7 days to go of obsessing about the best bodies that winter sports has to offer. Go team Canada (naked)!

Another Side of Wrestling

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I can’t attest to really anything about JuicyLads.com other than the previews and non-member site. It appears to be, primarily, a jack-off site with a lot of straight British boys pleasuring themselves or having help from a woman. Trying to capitalize on our little corner of the gay porn kink world, they have previews of two wrestling matches out.

Apparent headliner, Britboy aka Steve, looks familiar to me. I’m thinking I’ve seen him, perhaps as one of the endless line of go-go boys featured by Chris Geary. When I have time I will likely dig some more to see if I can find him elsewhere. He’s stunning, and he’s featured in the two wrestling matches available for preview. He’s hotter by a factor of 20 with a hairy torso than smooth, but I’ll take what I can get.
The clip from his tussle against a tattooed boy in the briefest of speedos looks entertaining. I get the impression we’re watching two testosterone-charged pretty boys genuinely testing their muscles, speed and endurance against one another. Some occasional gimmicks pop up, like a little less than convincing test of strength, and the final victory pose is transparently scripted. Other than that, some nice grunting, tossing, and dominating.
The setting is a little reminiscent of BG East’s early Private Bouts rompus room. Very little geography to work with, and some exercise equipment must be carefully avoided. I’d generally give it a weak score for set up, except that this sort of tells a hot story. These are two muscle studs at the gym late one night, clearing away the equipment, laying down some mats, and stripping to their speedos to see who can come out on top.
Although Britboy is the headliner and muscle face, the boy in green wins me over (as he does Britboy). At first, his haircut is distracting me. He looks like he just rolled out of bed and took some scissors haphazardly to his own head. But once he mounts Britboy and handily controls the muscle stud underneath him, I find myself warming up to him. Once he climbs on top to snarl and growl while flexing out a double bicep victory pose post-match, I definitely want to see more of him owning Britboy. The rest of the products at JuicyLads don’t really speak to me (straight guys jerking or getting sucked by women just doesn’t do it). So I don’t imagine this wrestling as a side dish is enough to get me to pull out my credit card. But the side of wrestling is tantalizing, and I’ll keep my eye on the menu in the future.

I Will Not Hate, I Will Not Hate, I Will Not Hate…

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Clearly, I’m not a Cosmo girl. The unveiling of Cosmo’s hottest bachelors from across the country seems like it’s tailor made for gayboy consumption. But not so much. I really don’t think of myself as a hater. I love the look of all sorts of bodies, really I do. But seeing the wall of Cosmo’s bachelors on this clip from the Today Show makes me think that I am simply not the demographic Cosmo had in mind. Vanilla, vanilla, vanilla… no heat, little color, and some of them just haven’t quite finished up with puberty. Mr. Mississippi makes me feel like a felon, and that the time is not worth the crime!


Okay, that sounded harsh. I’m really working on not hating here. Let me just take Mama’s advice and focus on the positives:
In this clip, keep your eyes out for Mr. Oregon. I’m jonesin’ on him for three reasons: 1) he’s setting off my ‘dar with his answer to the question of what he looks for in a “girl,” 2) his body is ripped to shreds, and 3) he’s got to be high, probably to work himself up to answer questions about “girls” (see #1). Read his profile on Cosmo, and tell me that Mr. Oregon doesn’t play for our team. He finds it stressful to date (women) because he never knows how long to wait before it’s safe to make a move. Trust me, darling, we’ve all tried playing that stressful game at one time or another. He wants to remind women that some men are sensitive, and his roommate’s girlfriend says he’s the type that every girl wants to take home to her parents (e.g., non-threatening). Yep, my ‘dar is working just fine.
I’ll skip my catty comments about Mr. Georgia, and I’m summoning superhuman self-restraint not to do a discourse analysis on Mr. Maine’s characterization of a woman’s anatomy. Returning to Mama’s advice, let me continue…
I’m guessing Mr. Washington’s been smokin’ weed with his neighbor to the south, so he’s also tripping my ‘dar. If all he wants a woman for is to incubate progeny, we can hire out, and he and Mr. Oregon came come over to my place for naked Fritos.
Finally, Mr. Ohio is even more shredded that Mr. Oregon, but unlike Mr. Oregon, he doesn’t appear to be stoned (i.e., could be a bit uptight), so I’m sticking with my three-way naked Frito-fest fantasy in the Pacific Northwest. Still, that clip from the Today Show featuring Mr. Ohio in his adorable glasses, revealing that he’s a 3rd grade teacher, and… ding, ding, ding, ding!!!. Wait, he’s a gym bunny, third grade teacher who doesn’t have a girlfriend, and his idea of a sexy date (with a woman) is a bike ride in the country and ice cream? All right. He can grab some Ben & Jerry’s Hubby Hubby and bike over to join me, Mr. Washington, Mr. Oregon, and the Fritos. He needs a toke.

So, as I said, clearly I’m not a Cosmo girl. And this hottest bachelor bit is grating on my nerves and making me have to work extra, extra hard not to go hatin’. Now I need to clean the house and pour the Fritos in a bowl.

My Favorite Deadly Sin

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A friend in Italy just sent me an email confirming she saw the legendary “sexy priest” calendar on sale in Rome. Clearly this must be art, because it makes me feel guilty, pisses me off, and turns me on all at the same time. It’s the height of hypocrisy to make these strapping young hunks the objects of our lust, when they themselves have been sworn to celibacy in an institution that condemns lust, including man-crushes. Ah, forbidden fruit (yes, I said fruit). In honor of my favorite Italian, I wanted to share this head-scratching, yet provocative product that is making me deeply embrace at least one of the deadly sins.
Mr. Father August, 2010 looks like he’s into corporal punishment, if you ask me. Is it wrong to want to yank off his dog collar and throw him around by that floppy head of hair? I’m imagining that he’s into high-impact moves, and frankly I’d be okay with getting body slammed by him.
Here’s a pic from a few years ago featuring Mr. Father July, 2007. He’s making me feel all conflicted inside. Do I give him a lecture on the oppressive policies of the church, or do I get lost in those dreamy eyes and adorable dimples?
This studly man of the cloth was the coverboy for the 2007 calendar. Just try to tell me that he doesn’t know he’s gorgeous (still another deadly sin!). The slightly parted, full lips… the piercing, pale eyes… that Roman nose… this is about sex, and there’s no way that they don’t know that gay men are buying this crap up. “Lead me not into temptation,” indeed. We know that they know that these guys inspire lustful thoughts, and when I start thinking lustful thoughts, I’m inevitably going to imagine some sweaty wrestling scene with a hunky young cleric getting ripped out of his frock [I think I need a minute to myself before I can finish this thought]. Okay, if this had only been in print in my adolescence, I’d have loved to say that the sexy priests calendar turned me gay. As it is, I’m just happy to stumble across these men of the cloth with their come-hither stares, and let my imagination do the rest.

Another Side of Wrestling

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FetishHunks had several free clips from their wrestling vids up on YouTube until just a few days ago. Their account was cancelled all together, so I’m suspecting Big Brother may be involved. You can still see some clips on their webpage (click on some of the matches in the store and you’ll see a free preview – same as were up on YouTube). This is wrestling as a side dish, without a doubt. A little story and a lot of commitment give these guys some sweet credibility, I think.

Pornboy Nick Harmon seems to be the muscle dude behind the madness on FetishHunks. He’s also the most frequent protagonist showing up in their wrestling sides. He’s a sincere little studpuppy with a hot muclebod. He also makes several appearance in their Muscle Worship department (and Shaving, and Ass Play, and…), and that very round ass of his is a tasty morsel (decent ink, too).
In their wrestling sides, there’s a lot of script showing, but there also frequently appears to be a bit of legitimately throwing each other around. Even in the public pics there are some hard cocks on display, so at least some of these guys get down to business.
My number one turn off with FetishHunks (apart from the snuff-film crap) is the occasional site of XX chromosomes. The view between the legs of a spread-eagled woman is NOT what I want to see when I’m browsing for some turn-on material. Oy. Talk about buzzkill. Frankly, though, that’s what you get with homoerotic wrestling as a side dish: our wrestling side by side with someone else’s kink. So no harm, no foul. Just be forewarned.

Workout Ink

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Yesterday was another wonderful day of beautiful men crossing my path left and right. This video (which I found thanks to Tattoo Hunks… more from inked beauty Billy) inspires me to celebrate the beauty of some of the very fine men I saw at the gym…

While I did not catch sight of as much stunning ink on such hot, round biceps as Billy’s, there was the 5’10” pale stud with long curly blond hair. I’m sure he caught my double take when he walked by me in the locker room. I’m guessing he played football in high school, but he’s too small for the college team, so he just does bodybuilding now. His massively mounded shoulders and beautifully round, full pecs made me smile. But he didn’t see my jaw drop when he walked by, with that towel wrapped around his narrow waist and bubble butt, and I caught sight of the letter “B” tattooed on his right shoulder blade. Truly fantastic. I don’t know if it was his high school logo, but it only goes to show that he’s got a fantastic canvas crying out for more ink.

Sadly I didn’t see this hot swimmer stud, but very happily I did take a long gander at the 5’5″ young Latino guy with dark, hairy legs in the pool . He has a sweet, slender bod with thick legs and a strong (not huge) chest, but watching that stroke, it was clear he didn’t hone that body as a competitive swimmer. Soccer, perhaps? In any case, the large red and orange phoenix tattooed completely across his right pec is truly a work of art. I hope he didn’t mind me staring at his chest. If so, well… why did he get that fantastic tat there?
Although I didn’t get to see this very serious looking lifter, I did enjoy the even more stunning view of a 6′ or so dark Italian hovering around the locker room in black boxer briefs. I had to make several laps around the locker room to have an excuse to examine both the hard bod and the gorgeous ink climbing up his hip to his rib cage, then continued on the outside of his arm, up to his shoulder. It was one, long, abstract vine. Simply beautiful. I forgive him in advance for probably referring to it as a “tribal” design despite almost certainly belonging to no tribe in particular. Let’s just say it’s art, and his already beautiful body is that much more a fantastic work of art for it.
I actually do swim and work out at the gym. Really, I do. I don’t spend the whole time stalking the body beautifuls. But when stunningly fit men walk around me half naked sporting inspired ink, swimming, flexing, strutting… well, let’s just say that I enjoy all the perks of my gym membership.