Tag: Wade Cutler

Desert Island Discs

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True story: I just recently had to pack for several weeks away from home. I’m traveling for work, and packing is tight. I’ll have my laptop with me, and therefore access to watching DVDs. Here’s the task I gave myself, though: with limited space, I allotted myself exactly 3 homoerotic wrestling DVDs to bring with me. With that provocative task that I set for myself, the question became, which 3, out of my pretty impressive collection (if I do say so myself), should I bring?
Here’s what I came up with to keep me entertained for the next month or so (in addition to what I can snag online):
My first choice was Wrestlefest 2. It’s classic, old school BG East, with a live audience of fellow wrestlers cheering ringside and a strong smell of sweat, testosterone and camaraderie in the air (I’m on the record aching for more of all of that!). Having a young, stunningly hard, tanned rookie version of Brad Rochelle opening a can of nasty whoop ass on then-jobber Patrick Donovan can put me over the edge over and over, particularly once he’s got Patrick tied in the ropes.

I also love Chip Slater’s wrestling stylings (and that gorgeously handsome jaw!), and his humiliation and demolition of Jeff Jordan and his lucious pecs in Wrestlefest 2, with the hunks ringside cheering and whooping, is smokin’ hot! To be clear, Wrestlefest 2 isn’t precisely my favorite homoerotic wrestling DVD in my collection. But for this trip, with what’s yanking my crank at this moment, it was my top pick to pack.
My 2nd choice took me a little while to settle on. It likely comes as no surprise that I’d be packing a bit of Mitch Colby in my bag, but which Mitch masterpiece? I settled on Mitch-cubed, with Mitch’s Wrestler Spotlight DVD. His mat match against Patrick Donovan (yes, with extremely tight space, I’ve managed to squeeze in a double shot of Patrick!) is quite possibly my favorite Mitch-match of all time, but that’s hard to pin down because nothing Mitch does ever disappoints. But I’m absolutely enthralled with the give and take between Mitch and Patrick, the closely contested wrestling and tests of strength and tenacity, the gallons of sweat pouring off their gorgeous bodies, and a bearhug contest that I just about cannot make it all the way through without a very satisfying explosion.
When Mitch brings back amorous admirer Marc Rion (hey, what ever happened to that tasty one-hit-wonder?) for the 3rd match in this collection, it’s admittedly a little light on the wrestling but delightfully heavy on body worship. There are frequently times when some passionate body worship will get my heart pounding nearly as ferociously as an over-the-knee backbreaker. And worshipping Mitch is a very fond fantasy of mine. Definitely, Mitch’s Wrestler Spotlight is undoubtedly going to come in very handy over the next several weeks away from home.

When it came time to settle on my 3rd and final choice, I was feeling a lot of pressure. Saying yes to any one thing would mean saying no to everything else in my collection. Will I want old school? New school? Heavy on the erotic? Heavy on the ring wrestling? In the end, I settled on the classic Hunkbash 2 to round out my desert island discs. As with all my choices, the fact that there are many favorite wrestlers and matches on the same disc played heavily into my decision to stow Hunkbash 2 in my carry-on. First and foremost, I don’t believe I’ve ever sat down to watch a Wade Cutler match that didn’t end with me coated in sweat and toweling off. But place muscle hunk Wade into the expert hands of heel extraordinaire and BG East Boss himself, Kid Leopard, and the climactic match of Hunkbash 2 qualifies for one of the hottest, most satisfying homoerotic wrestling matches I’ve ever seen. Wade is in prime physical condition, wearing iconic stars and stripes trunks (for a while, at least), and suffering in complete shock at being manhandled and sexually dominated by a smaller, less muscular opponent. Classic tale. Iconic wrestlers. Never-fail entertainment to satisfy in the coming weeks.

But there really isn’t a match in Hunkbash 2 that fails to offer quality goods to tweak my kink from one angle or another. Blond babyface Barry Longshaw getting stomped into the mat by an incredibly young Kid Vicious with a full head of hair is simply awesome. Psycho Capone opening up his nasty brand of insanity all over big, beautiful muscle boy Terry Reed is over the top hot (something about that match totally sucks me into really pitying Terry… seriously beautiful salesmanship, obviously). But I think my second most favorite match from Hunkbash 2 is pro-heel Bryan unleashing a stunningly hot mauling all over the beeee-autiful and timelessly muscled body of Dante Rosetti. From start to finish, I love every twist and turn in Dante’s bashing, but when Bryan looks like he nearly shoves his boot up Dante’s tasty muscled ass as the tanned Italian is trapped and spread-eagled in the corner ring ropes, I am seriously moved.
Like I said, these don’t necessarily reflect my favorite discs of all time. But I chose them to offer me a smattering of several motifs, tastes, and genres to satisfy me through a variety of potential moods over the coming weeks. I can already guarantee that at some point I’ll kick myself because I’m particularly in the mood for some other gem from my library. Just not having access to the rest of my collection will likely heighten my obsession for something I won’t have in hand. But I feel pretty solid on these three discs to get me through several weeks of what could be astonishingly dry, boring work. And of course, there are online matches that I’ll have at my fingertips as well…
What 3 discs would you have packed?

Asses Named

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Congratulations to Stay Puft, who posted the best score for this week’s edition of Name That Ass! All of these glutes this week should be on your list of homoerotic wrestlers to watch. I own matches with all of these hot hunks, and they’re all cherished possessions. Now pull out your quizzes and let’s review the answers…
Ass #1 belongs to…
…the Z-Man, Zack Vazquez/Zack Johnathan… whatever you’d like to call him, I get the impression he’ll answer you.
It’s Thunder’s Arena wrestler Sebastian showing off the Z-Man’s moneymaker in a feet-off-the-floor bearhug in Battlespace 10. The Z-Man hasn’t always jobbed, but let’s face it, he’s jobbed more than his fair share. I’m glad to see in his recent debut with BG East that he’s got a little more to offer than just having his ass beat up and down and shown off from every angle. It is, indeed, a nice ass, though.
Ass #2 belongs to…
…BG East muscle god himself, Wade Cutler.
I was just talking about this proportionally perfect muscle god! Those pecs come in a close second place for my favorite Wade Cutler body part, but hands down, it’s that gorgeous ass that’s at the top of my list. Again, I say, Rod Duart in X-Fights 19 was one damn lucky rookie.
Ass #3 belongs to…
…legendary pornboy, Scott Randsome (aka Kurtus Beefcake).
Specifically, here he’s grinding his balls into still another legendary pornboy, Tom Katt for BG Enterprise’s Fantasy Fight 2. Tom has his eye, and hands, on Scott’s ass from the get-go, but the battle to determine who’s ass is getting fucked is far from a given. Fans of full contact muscle on muscle wrestling simply must own this match.

Ass #4 belongs to…
…Steve Shannon.
Steve did just a few matches for Can-Am, including this appearance on the mats and then in the oil (ah, Can-Am), in Czech Tag Team 2. He wrestled alongside of Sonny Markham, another musceboy extraordinaire, and they faced off against the titular Czechs, Jirka Kalvoda and Jarda Kolar. I’m more familiar with Steve’s more competitive work for On Top Wrestling, and his much, much less competitive wrestling for Sharpshooters. Damn, that’s one gorgeous golden blond man.
Finally, ass #5 belongs to…
…BG East bad boy classic, Jose.
You know you’re a bad ass when you only need one name to inspire fear. Here, Jose wrestles in one of the Paradise oil wrestling matches, up against The Lineman. Jose kicked ass all the time. Always. Satisfyingly. And his cock had its own zip code. Look at the sneer on that face, and then scroll back up and enjoy the ass again.
No shame if you didn’t score a perfect 100. It’s just a signal that you need to watch a lot more homoerotic wrestling. Enjoy your studies!

Bill of Goods

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As I’ve made a lot of hay passing judgment on homoerotic wrestling matches and wrestlers, Kid Leopard’s words of caution from the BG East Headquarter’s discussion group frequently come to mind. KL has, on more than one occasion, cautioned commenters not to turn catty as we discuss wrestler’s bodies. The fine wrestlers who strip down and lock up for our entertainment are, in fact, real guys with bruisable egos, who don’t sign up to have every aspect of their physiques trashed and insulted. I think there is a relatively fine line, however. Let’s face it, the bodies are, themselves, major draws that make us tune in. As consumers, we pay up to be entertained, which in large part includes enjoying the appearance of wrestlers’ barely clad/unclad bodies. It’s hardly surprising that we have things to say about wrestler’s bodies. “His ass is hot,” and, “His ass is fat,” come from essentially the same observational position, and frankly they may both represent about the same quantity of charitable spirit. We buy a product, and therefore we feel entitled to treat that product, including the appearance of bodies, as objects available for us to critique. Still, with KL’s words playing in the back of my head like Jiminy Cricket, I try my best to stay on the respectful side of the fine line as I presume to comment on homoerotic wrestlers’ physiques.

With that preamble in mind, let me just ask you: is Naked Kombat’s new rookie, Cliff Jensen, what you’d characterize as a “muscle god?” NK’s text teaser to get you to click through to the match characterizes this pairing as, “Huge-dicked muscle god takes on sexy stud.” Sebastian Keyes is a scrappy little wrestler who fulfills my fantasy of what it would be like to see Seth Green in homoerotic combat.  I’m 100% certain that Sebastian is the “sexy stud,” and not the “huge-dicked muscle god.” Which means that Cliff Jensen must be the one NK is selling as the huge-dicked muscled god in this scenario.

At the risk of sounding catty, I don’t buy the line that Cliff Jensen is a muscle god. Huge-dicked, okay. But muscle god? Is this the physique of a muscle god?

Let me be absolutely clear. It’s not Cliff or his physique that I’m taking issue with. It’s the marketing mind, casting him as the huge-dicked muscle god, that I’m quibbling with. I’d wrestle Cliff in a heartbeat. I’d spank his sweet ass (he seems to like that), and I’d fuck him (he loses but tops from the bottom, so not sure if that says more about Sebastian or Cliff), and I’d count myself as very, very fortunate for the opportunity. I’m infatuated with Cliff’s ink, and in particular, his dragon tat across his right shoulder blade (watch for him in a future installment of Name That Tat!). At 6’3″, he’s a tall drink of water, and there’s no disputing that the boy is physically fit (despite getting winded early in his debut), carrying very little body fat. I hope that I’m not coming across as catty and insulting, because I think he’s a tall, sexy frat boy with plenty of potential. But I balk at characterizing Cliff Jensen as a muscle god.

I’m probably as culpable as anyone in over-ascribing godliness to certain homoerotic wrestling bodies. But when I wax hyperbolic about a physique, it tends to come from a place of nearly disbelieving awe. That body simply cannot be solely human. His face is too handsome. His proportions are too perfect. When it comes specifically to the characterization of “muscle god,” I tend to picture physique stars with slabs of beef hanging off of their skeletons like a meat locker. “Muscle god,” I think, requires competition bodybuilding quality muscle, thick, defined, a little freakish (though I reserve a whole different class of adoration for the “muscle freak“). I’m picturing the mountainously muscled Thunder’s Arena’s Conan, for example…

…or the inhumanly perfect aesthetics of classic BG East muscle man Wade Cutler…

…or even the simply gorgeous, powerful, thick, hard, veiny awesomeness of Kid Brock.

I buy “muscle god” for a lot of homoerotic wrestling physiques, frankly. There are a lot of fine works of art wrestling out there with entirely worship-worthy bodies with more than an echo of divinity built in. But Cliff Jensen’s charm is just not cut from that cloth, I’d argue.

He’s pretty. His long and hunky. He likes his ass spanked hard, god damn it. And for all of that (along with the stunning body art), I’m a fan of the rookie. But “muscle god?”

I just don’t think so.

Checking it Twice

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A comment by Joe made me start thinking about my wish-list. This is the time of year when kids start asking themselves what their fondest desires are, isn’t it? The promise of gifts to come, the magic of dreams appearing from out of nowhere underneath a Christmas tree made me start thinking of what Santa might send me. Most pertinent to this blog is my list of gay wrestling products that I don’t yet own but probably will, sooner or later. Note, this isn’t a plea for anyone to fill my wish-list. Rather, this is just a rhetorical device to do more of what I enjoy doing most around here: discussing what works for me in homoerotic wrestling.

Starting with a few newer items from the catalog, I’ve got my eye on Ball Bash 2. I’ve been delighted by the pics in BG East’s Arena for quite some time. I’ve also been tracking Reese Wells’ (aka Brody Hancock) career across promotions over the past year or so. Reese tells a sweet tale. He’s (sort of) a skinny kid with a respectable arsenal of pro moves and attitude to transform him in the ring into a bully-killer. And though I say he’s “sort of skinny,” truth is, his body is quite the meat market, packed with long, lean, clearly hard-worked muscles, including rock hard abs, solid round pecs, and surprisingly bulging biceps. What particularly attracts me to Ball Bash 2 is that it seems to stick out in Reese’s portfolio as the only thing (at least that I can find) featuring him naked with all attention centered explicitly on his impressive cock and balls. In case Reese never returns to the darker, naked, sadomasochistic side of homoerotic wrestling, I’d like to own this little piece of history and enjoy it at my leisure.

Mat Hunks 8 is another recent release that I haven’t snapped up yet, but probably will. Every mat hunk in this line up has starred in a satisfying wrestling fantasy for me (Chris Bruce, Alexi Adamov, Mikey Vee and Denny Cartier). Truth be told, it’s Denny that’s making me long for Mat Hunks 8 more than anything. Frankly, I think that Denny is still looking for who he “is” in homoerotic wrestling. He’s sometimes a little green, sometimes a little sadistic/savvy, sometimes walks in with a dose of humility, sometimes walks in with an “I can fuck up anybody” attitude. As he works on character development, in any case, I never fail to be intoxicated by his body, and even more, by his body in motion. He’s clearly an accomplished, veteran amateur wrestler with speed, balance, and body savvy to bring authentic wrestling cred to his work. I just love watching him work, and the promise of watching him work and get worked over by Mikey Vee is pure fantasy come to life.

Masked Mayhem 6 is my third recent release to show up on my wish list. It all looks good, of course. Muscle Mask jobbing, Jonny in fighting trim, Cage Thunder in the ring. But you know as well as I do that it’s Rafe (mmmmm… Rafe) that’s calling to me. Rafe in the ring against a veteran heel is just too delicious to pass up. Sooner or later, this will be mine.

I also maintain a laundry list of “classics” from farther back in the library. I frequently pick up something from way back to add onto an order for a new release, to try to catch up with all the fantastic stuff that happened before I was actively collecting. Hard Pros 2 is a case in point. The line-up looks like a barnburner from A-Z, including fantasymen Jay Austin, Wade Cutler and Steve Sherman, along with hard heels with astonishing attributes like Max Dare and Jose.

Sadly, some of the classics that look mindboggling fantastic don’t appear to be still on the market (yet?). For example, all of the Bratpack series look fantastic, but I can only find them in the Arena and on some previews from my “older” BGE products, not for sale from the BGE website. Bratpack 12 would be where I’d start, I think. The trailer for this one caught my eye, and the line up (including TNT, Animal Ayben, Jumpin Joe Jaksyn, both Romano twins and Syddo Riley) all look like fantastic characters I’d love to see in the basement/underground genre.

I’m still waiting/hoping for some of the classic Private Bouts series to be converted to DVD. From that treasure trove, I’d start with Private Bouts 32-36, primarily to see a painfully young DW in action against Chase and Brian Baxter against Scott “Dark” Rogers.


The anticipation is frequently almost as sweet as the consummation of the moment when what I’ve dreamed of is at last in hand. But I promise, Santa, I will not grow tired of these toys. I will not break them. And I will, most definitely, continue to play with them over and over and over again, for years to come.

Deserving It

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There’s a fascinating aspect to pro wrestling and, of more interest to me, the homoerotic wrestling genre, that focuses on the rules of engagement. Behavior that would be condemned outside the ring as anti-social, underhanded, or despicable can be transformed in a wrestling fantasy into it’s own brand of moral rightness. New rules apply inside the wrestling ring. As a result, we may (often) find ourselves rooting for the heel, cheering for the low blow, delighting in a battler taking sadistic advantage of a vulnerable and defeated opponent.
When Jeff Phoenix gets stood up by his tag partner, the golden boy with a crazy hot body cockily predicts that he can defeat both Jose and Cruze singlehandedly. Of course, Jose and Cruze are notorious cheaters. They’re bullies, sadists with credentials as long as their fight records, invariably happy to cut corners, pull trunks, torture opponents in the ropes, and revel in a completely unfair 2-on-1 mugging. And, frankly, from the moment handsome hardbody Jeff steps into the ring, I can’t wait to see him suffer.  He “deserves it” inside the ring in a way that doesn’t necessarily translate outside the ring. He’s too hot, too handsome, way too confident, and the only right thing to be done is for him to get beaten to a pulp, humiliated repeatedly, broken into a quivering mess in the middle of the ring, and left to pick up the pieces of his dignity. Outside the ring, a 2-on-1 cheating, humiliating beating of a hard working muscle man might seem “wrong,” but inside the ring, it’s ooooh-so-right.

If ever someone deserved it, Troy Baker did. I happily own his debut match for BG East, in which he teamed up with his brother. Troy’s character took a little while to develop, but even in that first match, we can see the seeds of his destruction. He’s beautiful. He’s stunningly built. He’s a little slow in piecing together some wrestling moves, but he’s supremely confident that his sheer strength and bright, white smile will earn him victory. In match after match, his self-love of his own beautiful body becomes his undoing, and there’s just nothing “righter” than watching him think that he’s got it in the bag, only to find himself suffering and destroyed at the hands of an “inferior” opponent.

Inside the ring, that’s the formula that demands brutal, humiliating destruction of the classic golden boy. Inside the ring, justice simply requires that a less stunningly developed, less beautiful, perhaps less “deserving” of victory heel beat the living shit out of Troy again, and again, and again. Outside the ring, good looks, blond hair, a hard, tight body, and a healthy dose of entitlement and confidence will generally be very well rewarded. Inside the ring, they require crushing defeat and prolonged humiliation.

I think the morality tales of straight-up pro probably work the same way, but I think homoerotically directed wrestling has an even more salient subtext. Someone like muscle-beautiful Zack Johnathan/Vazquez getting completely taken to school by “skinny” kid Brody Hancock, for example, lets me work out all sorts of long standing “issues” I have as a gay man. Outside the ring, the most beautiful, straight-laced, used-to-getting-their-way straight boys tend to prosper and receive more than a heaping helping of social approval. But inside the ring, at least for this gayboy, there’s something deeply satisfying about seeing the classic jock pummeled. It speaks to me powerfully to see the classic cards of strength, youth, and power stacked against an overmatched opponent, who with sheer audacity and ferocity, does whatever it takes to pull the rug out from under the muscled juggernaut. The morality tale, for me at least, has more than a hint of the skinny (or fat), disregarded and underestimated sissy who spits in the face of the bullying jock and exacts humiliating revenge for getting thrown into the lockers.

I think what’s so engaging for me about homoerotic wrestling is this notion of new rules that overturn the standard morality of polite society. Well, okay, there’s that, plus the gorgeous, hot hunks squeezing and dominating each other in (or out) of completely revealing gear that leads to or at least inspires me to imagine them fucking for days. But no, really, the chance to rewrite the rules, to turn conventional morality and wisdom on its head, makes so much of wrestling homo to me, even when no one literally gets fucked, just fucked up.

Can You Lend a Hand?

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My post yesterday omitted what is for many, perhaps, the most important sexual behavior of all: masturbating. I’ve heard rumor that there are guys out there that don’t even participate in this mode of orgasm, but no one has actually ever admitted it to me. When it comes to porn in general and in particular homoerotic wrestling kink (whether we want to characterize our favorite matches as “porn” is still entirely another conversation), I suppose the most common mode of consumption is isolated self-stimulating with just the recorded images, the viewer, and his imagination (and, of course, his hand). There’s an element of voyeuristic kink here. To watch, not to directly participate, as an end in and of itself, clearly relieves tension for (nearly?) all of us, and for some of us, it’s the exclusive means of carnal delights.

I’m a big fan of taking care of my own business on a routine basis. And 19 times out of 20, homoerotic wrestling is precisely the means for that private end. To watch two beautiful men wrestle hard is entirely arousing to me, even when I’m watching it remotely. I know my own body better than any one else does, so a private session with just me and a DVD can be profoundly satisfying. I know the right pace and pressure, the right amount of friction, to make the pleasure profoundly satisfying. I can anticipate the images, the sounds, the scenarios that will put me over the top, and with that knowledge I can stretch the duration of play much longer than any other partner has ever managed. 

Perhaps it’s the act of solitary masturbating, focused on images of male bodies, that is the quintessential “behavior” of gay sex, ironically. But I have to commend diversifying the portfolio for those of you who find yourself sticking to this formula exclusively. First, finding a partner who can enjoy the kink of watching homoerotic wrestling with you is such an intensely erotic joy. So many of us have spent so much time nurturing our kink with the curtains drawn, at least half-ashamed, drawn within ourselves. But clearly there are plenty of others out there, and sharing the joy of watching what gets you off with someone else who gets off that way too is powerful. Some of my most enthusiastic moments with a partner have a grunting, groaning, trash talking BGE soundtrack playing in the background, multiplying what’s going right for me in that moment many times over. Getting inspired by the action on screen can also segue into a fantastic translation in real time. Sliding a lover between your legs and squeezing him in a gasp-inspiring body scissors at the same time that your homoerotic wrestling hero does the same thing up on the wall is just all sorts of right. The intimacy is simply unmatched when you’ve got a partner to share everything that turns you both on.

Even if other items on the menu don’t seal the deal for you, I think there’s something more fulfilling and lasting about jerking off with (or in the hands of) a partner than by yourself. There’s just something centering and grounding in our own humanity about an orgasm witnessed and an orgasm shared. Now, you know what a major fan I am of the erotic imagination, but I’m a little skeptical of the completely inwardly drawn imagination that can end up entirely isolating us as sexual performers. I simply love that physical presence, the adoring stroke, that wonderful moment that never loses its novelty for me when I find myself feeling incredibly awed to be naked and vulnerable and powerful and intimately present with another man. And there’s just nothing as intimately personal as seeing another man’s cum-face.

So these last two posts make me feel a little like I’m playing Dr. Ruth. It’s not my intention to sound like the sexpert or to cast another marginalizing net around what should be considered “normal.” I’m all for your sexual satisfaction, at least as far as it comes from an act of mutual, consenting pleasures. I just think it’s worth saying that what defines the crowd that tends to read this blog shouldn’t be something that removes us from pleasures shared. We don’t all have to live up to the physical standards or peak performances of our homoerotic wrestling heroes, by any means. But we can take a cue from them that there’s a whole world of erotic pleasures and beautiful men to share them with.