Is it just my imagination, or does gorgeous hottie Zach Reno deliver more than his fair share of trunk pulls?
Zach is so determined to weasel out of doing his chores that he stuff’s Jayden Mayne’s handsome face between his hairy thighs, leans forward, and gives the choreboy’s trunks a quick tug.
Zach does what it takes to level the playing field when he’s double-teamed by gargantuan muscle gods Mark Muscle and Zach Altovito, including, but not limited to, yanking hard on Mark Muscle’s trunks to make his earlier low blows linger longer.
It’s not like Zach turns to the trunk pull only when the odds are long. He and fellow lightweight Ethan Andrews are more than enough to take on big, beautiful, pro loudmouth Garrett Thomas, but a completely gratuitous trunk pull makes Zach’s gut punches on the trussed up hunk that much more painful. And humiliating.
Trapped in Kid Karisma’s muscle bearhug in Gazebo Grapplers 17, Zach turns to a defensive trunk pull in a last ditch bid to survive the crushing embrace. The defensive trunk pull is a marvelous variation on the theme. It’s desperate, like clutching at straws, but instead it’s clutching at spandex.
The defensive trunk pull “works” only in so far as the wrestler on offense instinctively reacts to having his gear wedged up his ass crack and his cheeks exposed on camera. Zach’s pull implies that he’s an innovator, that he’s calculating more than just wrestling skill and strength, but also ego, vanity, and focus. Lesser men might be shocked and distracted to be on the receiving end of a defensive yank like this. Unfortunately for Zach, Kid Karisma is “less than” no one, particularly when it comes to showing off his multi-award winning ass.
Not only is Kid K unfazed by Zach’s move to expose his perfectly muscled ass cheek, he happily demonstrates that one good yank deserves another. Ever the fan-pleaser, Kid Karisma makes sure you and I can make a fair comparison to determine who wears the wedgie best.
Personally, my fan support for Zach Reno is only accentuated by his readiness to grab hold of his opponents’ trunks. I seriously love Zach’s hot, compact body and his take-no-prisoners wrestling style. I’m a huge fan of his furry, muscled ass, as well. Like his ultimate fate in his match with Kid Karisma, he may not be ready to compete with the sheer beauty of Kid K’s breathtaking bare butt, but I’m loving Zach’s willingness to go there!
I had every intention of posting some more niche categories for you to chime in on as we look back on the best of homoerotic wrestling for 2016. But alas, time and tide await for no man. The clock has nearly run out on 2016, and probably not a second too soon. So instead of polling the readers, I’m just going to put forth a few of my own personal picks for the best in homoerotic wrestling in a few more categories almost certain not to show up in any official year end fan polls.
Fuck, I love a big, broad, thickly muscled back. I suppose a lot of guys probably don’t think of the back as a particularly lust worthy. I, on the other hand, think a hot, sexy back is immense value added. It seems far too often neglected by the gym bunny crowd, making a truly gorgeous, crafted classic V and wide wing span that much more notable. Again, for my tastes, there are mechanics involved, like proportion, shape, and thickness, but that last, little, hard-to-articulate aesthetic comes down to whether a back makes me ache to slap down a massive load across the expanse of it. So, as with everything, it’s about what it inspires in me as much as any particular objective, measurable quality that we could all agree on. My top three favorite backs in 2016, in reverse order, are as follows:
2nd runner up is Lon Dumont. So much has been said about Lon’s phenomenal abs, and deservedly so. But damn, that back is a work of art! I would love to see 2017 be the year that opponents climb into the ring with Lon and acknowledge what a hot, rocking body this magnificent muscleman possesses, and fuck, that back should be on the list of things for an opponent with taste to admire.
1st runner up for me is BG East’s muscleboy Van Skyler. He’s a dizzyingly sexy fantasyman from the front, sure, but fuck, that gorgeous back could be more perfect only with a stream of cum painted across it.
I don’t have access to better pics, but trust me, Thunder’s Arena’s Scrappy has a magnificent back. His perfect V points like an arrow that supremely fuckable ass. He’s phenomenal to watch wrestle. The attitude, the power, the beauty from every angle. But my heart rate spikes every time I see his best side. Scrappy has his admirers, clearly, but I have think that he’s one of the most underrated athletes in the homoerotic wrestling industry. He’s a handsome fucker with some sweet mat skills, but I’m waiting for him to just turn around, extend that lat spread and flex those glutes, and bring the right opponent to his knees.
Best Tag Team.
There were precious few tag team matches in homoerotic wrestling in 2016. A producer once told me that tag team matches are few and far between because it’s just too much of a pain in the ass coordinating 4 different schedules (plus the production crew). So they’re a rare treat that I, personally, enjoy immensely. So here are my top 3 favorite tag teams in 2016, picked out of some inexact formula of ring skills, beauty, teamwork and chemistry, with just a little of that extra added allure of making we want to join them in a 3 way (and I’m not strictly talking wrestling now).
2nd runner ups for me were the fascinating pairing of two sensational, iconic figures in homoerotic wrestling, Z-Man and Austin Cooper, teaming up for Rock Hard Wrestling in All-Star Brawl. I’m not convinced that they have a ton of chemistry when working together, but two hot, sexy stars this big and this popular make a sensationally sexy pairing.
1st runner ups, and thus first in line for me to climb into a petite, muscle packed, loin clothed sandwich with, are Wrestle4Hire’s Ravaging Savages, namely Zach Reno and Matt Blakewood. These bearded badasses were a thrilling surprise for me in their magnificent take down of behemoth muscle giant Mark Muscle. Despite pulling off some fabulously coordinated double teaming, I think they are just a little unequally yoked, as evidenced by Matt having to turn alpha and order Zach around a bit to finally finish off their superhuman opponent. But holy fuck, these micro beasts were a sensational turn on for me in 2016.
In what has to be the hottest, most entertaining tag team match in homoerotic wrestling this year (this decade?), ginger newbie Charlie Evans joined forces with fantasy veteran Christian Taylor to bring down the house in Tag Team Torture 19. Their opponents, newbie Chase Addams and Trophy Boy Ty Alexander, could have totally taken this award, if their out of control vanities hadn’t set them on a path to self-destruction from the start. What Team Vanity lacked in teamwork and coordination, Team All-Americans excelled at. This was such a fabulous narrative of earnest babyfaces versus narcissistic heels, with the juicy melodrama of the upstanding All-Americans suffering heaping loads of underhanded brutality, and yet enduring, having each others backs, and through raw skill, will, and teamwork staying in the fray long enough for their egomaniacal opponents to make one too many mistakes. I would pay a premium for those dick selfies they snapped with Team Vanity’s phones. And absolutely, if there’s a tag team I’d most want to join for a rip and strip, baby oiled menage a trois, in 2016, it’s Team Vanity.
I’ve had some extensive conversations with Ty Alexander about the dangerous waters of expressing strong opinions about gear. I’m no Joan Rivers, and I hardly claim any particular expertise in fashion. But I definitely know when a particular gear choice does NOT do it for me. And, occasionally, I think to myself, that hunk was made to wear that! As with everything, there are mechanical factors that go into my estimation of gear, like fit, color, and complexion. But in this case, that hard to describe, major component of what I like has to do with me deciding, at least momentarily, that a wrestler actually may be even sexier in this particular gear than out of it (trust me, that’s a rare conclusion for me). Well, at least I think to myself that I’d like to see him in it before ripping it off of him. In any case, what I think may be the most sensational gear choices of 2016 are as follows.
2nd runner up is Trophy Boy Ty Alexander. To say that a pair of trunks look like they were made to be worn by a wrestler is, quite literally, the truth when it comes to fashion-obsessed Ty. He has an immense collection of custom made wrestling outfits that he showed off in 2016. Possibly my favorite were the opal trunks he wore in his grudge match against fleeting tag team partner Chase Addams in Tag Team Torture 19. Lush fit, beautiful contrast with Ty’s all-over tan, and generously providing reading material for when he plants that ass on Chase’s face. They tell a story all on their own, which, considering Ty’s panache for storytelling in the ring, adds compelling nuance and subtext to a match.
I let my attention wander away from Jobe Zander for a while, but suddenly, in 2016, I took another look and discovered a whole new man. I’m assuming there was some nefarious transaction with Satan involved, or perhaps a genie in a bottle, to transform Jobe into the ripped sex god he suddenly is today. However it happened, I was blown away by the super-low-rise, sky blue banana hammock he wore this summer in Can-Am’s Decrotchery 14. His hot, rock hard glutes look insanely sensational, and Jobe’s masterpiece is framed like the work of art it is. The seaming, the gorgeously tight outline of his monster cock… everything about these trunks scream Jobe. A fashion critique would likely note that the pouch pulls away from his inner thigh just a fraction as a result of a fraction too little fabric to manage to cover his famously gargantuan python. But who the fuck are we kidding. That tiny gap, the shadowed space stretched too tight at the side of his crotch, is exactly what makes this gear perfection.
My choice for Best Gear in 2016 is Rafael Valmor from BG East’s Fan Fantasy 4. Honestly, Rafael had an unfair advantage, considering Kieran Dunne made him try out about half a dozen pairs of trunks before acknowledging the obvious truth that these baby blue square cut swim trunks achieved absolute perfection. The combination of that baby blue against his bronzed, Brazilian body is so fucking lovely! But it’s the cut that boggles my mind. I swear it looks like these trunks were sewn together right on his body. From the back, they dip exactly to the top of his ass crack, squeezing each gorgeous ass cheek like loving friend. From the front, they suck to his muscled, upper thighs, and then leave exactly enough acreage to let his mouthwatering bulge stick out just right. I know, I know, I keep using the word “perfection” too often in this category, but I can think of no other description for Rafael’s gear here. Kieran agrees with me here. Mouthwatering, aesthetic, masterful engineering, absolute perfection.
Best Wrestling Character
I think of this last category like picking Miss Congeniality, only most of the time, the most compelling, sexiest wrestling personalities in homoerotic wrestling are decidedly uncongenial. As a fan, I talk about this aspect of wrestling often, the sell, not just of any particular move or hold, but of the wrestling story as a whole. There are plenty of homoerotic wrestling matches that seem to pop up out of nowhere, with the combatants’ motivation for stripping down to their barest essentials and beating the living fuck out of each other remaining mostly a mystery. But there are some sensationally entertaining hunks on the scene who absolutely emote. They set the table for us, sometimes with dialogue and explicit backstory, but often with just a smirk and a sneer. I love wrestlers who can convince me that they aren’t just waiting to clock out, but that they’re motivated and passionate about working up a sweat and settling some score. This is less about being a heel or a babyface or a jobber, but about conveying the virtual world in which hot hunks in the briefest of trunks defy gravity, obliterate the conventions of common decency, and pit nothing but their bodies and cunning against one another for a reason. That’s fucking sexy as hell for me. So here are my top 3 wrestling personalities who did all of that the best in 2016.
I’ve missed seeing more of Aryx Quinn in homoerotic wrestling lately, but even showing up relatively rarely, he tears apart the competition in body and soul. As my 2nd runner up for best wrestling character, Aryx could easily drive fans wild with just that rocking body and those incredibly devastating wresting skills. And yet, every time he shows up, he brings that sexy as fuck, sneering, domineering, trash talking attitude that typically conveys a crystal clear motivation to rip an opponent apart in order to fuck them senseless in victory. I’d argue there’s no other wrestler in competition today who inhabits quite the wrestling character that he does with such supreme success.
My 2nd runner up for Best Wrestling Character is Kid Karisma. Kid K consistently conveys a transparent motivation for throwing down, built on several interlocking factors. He loves the way he looks, glistening with sweat and showing off his magnificent muscles, having beaten an opponent to submission and flexing over top of him. He clearly loves the way it feels, possessing another man, bending and breaking him, milking whimpers and screams out of him. Kid K sells a particularly sweet vintage of sadism without a hint of maleficence about it that’s incredibly novel and compelling. And, at least 2 times out of 3, he wrestles because it turns him on. So often, after ripping a lucky bastard apart piece by piece, you’ll catch Kid Karisma climbing on top, saddling up, and smacking down a lusty, passionate kiss. Both in his wrestling work and in conversation, he consistently comes across as a hearty partier, a prankster and a smart ass, who wrestles for the sheer pleasure of it.
Best Wrestling Character in 2016 for my tastes was Matt Thrasher. Again, like Aryx and Kid Karisma, Matt inhabits a relatively unique persona in the business, I think. Particularly in his work for Muscle Domination Wrestling, Matt is the Daddy’s Home franchise. He’s gorgeous, of course, but he absolutely owns the salt ‘n’ pepper daddy beat in today’s industry. Youngsters of all shapes and sizes keep throwing themselves in his way, calling him old, calling him grandpa. And with patience born of experience, Matt chuckles, and then turns the ageist bullshit on its head by beating the living fuck out of every ankle biter he meets. He’s bulging and hairy and sweats like a Margarita in August, but its the way he carries that off in his seasoned, savory picking apart of young bucks that makes him such a phenomenal character. He’s never impulsive. He’s deliberate and decisive. And he persistently possesses the sexy, compelling character motivation of crushing the dreams of youth as he turns cocky kids into his sniveling bitches.
So those are my picks for some of the aspects of homoerotic wrestling that I, personally, key off of, but which don’t tend to find their way into end of year fan polls. Feel free to praise any wrestlers who you’d have picked for these (or any other) category in the comments below. And happy new year, people. Here’s to a hope and prayer to the homoerotic wrestling gods that we all survive 2017 with a few civil liberties left.
Kirk Donahue got off on the wrong foot with me. After debuting in exactly one match in 2014, near the end of that year, no less, somehow, he popped up on BG East’s ballot as a contender for Best Butt of the year. As you might have noticed, I am a devoted student of homoerotic wrestlers’ asses. I keep toying with the possibility of bringing back my Name That Ass game that entertained me so much a while back, but then I remember how almost no one ever actually wins that game because no one is as obsessed with cataloging the idiosyncratic beauty of wrestlers’ asses as I am. So when I say that Kirk Donahue’s nomination for Best Butt of 2014 was out of the blue, this is someone who knows of what he speaks.
At the time the nominations were published, I had some harsh words for Kirk’s sweet cheeks. I pretty much impugned his moral character, speculating about who he had to fuck to weasel his skinny little ass onto one of the most hotly contested categories in the Besties. I mean, he was up against Kid Karisma, Cameron Matthews, Austin Cooper, and Gabriel Ross. Because Kirk took that fifth spot, we didn’t even have the option of voting for Brad Barnes, Connor Cross, Rio Garza, Ty Alexander, Chace La Chance or Cal Bennett. Out of nowhere, this Howdy Doody babyface with, admittedly, a very nice body and, undeniably, outstanding pro wrestling experience, shoves his lean, welterweight glutes in our faces with nothing but the wrong end of an obliterating debut squash and that shit-eating grin on his face to show for it.
For that reason, I took an instant disliking to Kirk Donahue. Not like I never want see him in the ring, but the disliking that makes me really, really want to see him get the living shit beat out of him over and over again. When it comes to people I love to hate, there may be no one higher on that list than ridiculously cute, lean, earnest, dimple chinned, freckle faced Kirk. Back when he was first nominated I proposed that whoever wins the category that year should make it his mission to bend Kirk over his knee and pound his boy-next-door butt until Kirk confesses who he fucked to get on the nominations list. Cameron Matthews managed to wrest the title from 2-time winner Kid Karisma that year. I think both Kid K and Cameron should sort out these suspicions of poll rigging with a 3-way thrash all over Kirk’s tight little ass.
In the mean time, we get to see what hirsute beefcake Zach Reno can do with one of my favorite whipping boys in Babyface Brawl 4. First of all, Zach’s look instantly gets me hard. I’m still hoping to see Zach’s personality match the stunning glitz and glam of his sensational physique and magnificent fur. In the mean time, his gorgeous muscles and out of control curly split ends are still sufficient to raise my hopes (and other parts of me) that Kirk may be about to suffer hard.
Zach comes on strong to start this match off. Maybe too strong. When he brashly declares that he is the best wrestler ever, I start to worry that this magnificent, hairy chested dreamboat may be writing checks he can’t cash. His match record is pretty dicey thus far. He may want to review the tape of his crushing beatdown at the mercy of Kid Karisma’s muscles before he lays too bold a claim to invincibility. Too cocky? Maybe, but when he scoops up Kirk and slams his overachieving ass to the mat hard, I’m wanting Zach to pull this off so hard. “I told you these are arms of steel, bro,” Zach smirks, pumping out another sensational double bicep. Fuck, I’m wanting him to rip Kirk apart.
I love the drama in this match. The story establishes the long-evident fact that both Zach and Kirk have an impressive pro resume. It’s tit for tat repeated reversals of fortunes early going. Zach scoop slams Kirk. Kirk scoop slams Zach. Zach suplexes Kirk, goes to the well for a second dip, and Kirk thwarts him, reversing with a nasty suplex pounding Zach’s lower back hard to the mat. There’s a strong whiff of the possibility of Kirk using this match as a formal credential check, showing that he may look like a 19 year old upstart in way, way over his head, but he actually has top quality skill and grit packed into that super tight, baby smooth body. Right around then, my resentment is rising, because I’m still wanting to see him spanked hard. “Seems like anything you can do,” Kirk smirks, “I can do just as well.” Zach looks pissed. And dangerous. “That’s your opinion,” Zach retorts. “And your opinion sucks.”
Like the perfect contrast to the steady diet of squash matches I’ve been sucking down lately, this babyface brawl has me genuinely guessing almost all the way to the end. Just when I’m whipping mine out, feeling certain that Zach is going to slap this upstart son of a bitch to the ground, Kirk keeps fighting back. If I wasn’t hating on Kirk so bad, I’d have to admit, he’s fucking amazing, getting outmuscled repeatedly and using polished skill and sensational speed to zero out any advantage. But when he gloats about it, when he rubs it in and curls his adorable upper lip in that “I’m-a-big-boy” sneer, fuck, I scream at Zach to stop fucking around and make this punk cry like a fucking baby!
This shit gets nasty in a hurry. Note to self: do not taunt Zach Reno while he’s still got gas in the tank. There are several moments when I think he very well may be successful in his obvious attempt to rip Kirk’s head off and, presumably, piss down his neck (okay, that last bit was all my idea, but fuck, Zach is angry). Despite my cheers, Kirk keeps clawing his way back into contention, and he dabbles on the nasty side of the tracks as well. When he’s riding a wave of fury, he drags one of Zach’s legs over the bottom rope and stomps on his sweaty inner thigh, working on doing serious damage to my fantasy man’s knee. When that doesn’t cripple him, Kirk immediately ties down a figure-4 leglock that makes Zach openly weep and beg, his torso twisting and flopping and flailing futilely. “Oh, Jesus, STOP!” Zach screams in total humiliation, tapping out. “How are your legs feeling?” Kirk taunts, giving Zach about 3 seconds to catch his breath before snapping back on yet another figure-4 crippler.
I’m very happy to report, however, that Zach finally holds onto the momentum and picks apart the cocky varsity boy man. There’s a sick, sick, sick knee to the face that’s sold so well that I’m half expecting to see some teeth fall out of Kirk’s mouth. When Kirk starts to try to pound his way free, Zach finally cuts that shit short with a rake to the eyes and a stomp to the throat. They’re both dripping with sweat, crazy sexy, gorgeous as fuck bearing down on one another with total, raw, never-say-die grit. But Kirk’s bluster and speed and pro skills don’t amount to much when his knees are wobbling out from underneath him.
Zach almost tickles himself by how devastating his bulldog is off the top turnbuckle on the battered babyface boy. He looks almost as excited as I feel to see Kirk flat out and motionless in the middle of the ring. “You’re really knocked out, bro!,” he laughs. He does push ups over top of him, pumping out a moot 10 count. Turning and flexing for his own pleasure, his mirror image glistening and pumped and smiling back at him so proudly, he’s fucking magnificent in victory. “Too bad I knocked you out before the show started,” he gloats, flashing his bulging, hairy pecs, pumping his thick, veiny, peaked biceps. “You’ll have to watch it on tape,” Zach laughs, driving home the most devastating justice of all, that all of Kirk’s big boy pro dreams and overestimation of his place in the pecking order just got schooled on camera.
Ohhhh, fuck! I don’t know if Kirk has taken the opportunity to watch the magnificent muscle show that played out over top of his defeated carcass, but I’ve watched this scene repeatedly, and between Kirk getting what’s coming to him and Zach looking like the full grown fantasy man to beat, those last twenty seconds get me off yet again.
Honestly, Kirk is incredibly impressive. Under different circumstances, I’d probably be a big, big booster of his. But I’m still pretty incredibly turned on by watching him force fed brutal domination and vicious humiliation in homoerotic wrestler purgatory. I’ll be willing to forgive him, the moment I see him do body shots by licking salt off of both Kid Karisma and Cameron Matthew’s world class, iconic ass cheeks. And in the mean time, Zach Reno’s stock just spiked for me. Vicious looks good on him. Frat boy grown up, with power and skill that even takes him by surprise is a juicy, sweet part that I hope we see Zach grow into more and more.
I’ve written recently about the special, pleasurable tension in contrasts. Age differences, contrasting gear, size, attitude. There’s narrative tension and immediate erotic value for me in watching homoerotic wrestling with high contrast. So little wonder I am blown away by Wrestler4Hire’s incredibly sexy two-on-one battle between Mark Muscle and the Ravaging Savages, namely Zach Reno and Matt Blakewood.
Mark is another wrestler I’ve been lusting after from a distance, and only now sampling in action. He’s a magnificent specimen of a muscleman. He’s listed at 6’4″ and 255 pounds, and even in a business in which big men’s stats are regularly exaggerated, no fuck, I believe every last inch and ounce of that. Tanned, smooth, dark blond, clean cut, and epic muscle on epic muscle hanging from his gigantic frame. When it comes to the objectification of the male body for gay viewers to key off on, Mark is the perfect object of muscle lusting male objectification. W4H seems not to title most of their matches, but if this had a title, Mark would be the title character.
Pitting him against 2 opponents a fraction his size is sensational casting. Zach Reno I’ve seen and commented on before. At 5’7″ and 145 pounds, he’s sexy as fuck with his hairy pecs and caveman beard. But the shocking standout star of this complex match is totally new to me. Matt Blakewood is listed in the roster at 5’4″ and 130 pounds, and again, I buy that. There’s something of a mental patient vibe from his insanely shaggy beard and primal instincts. About halfway through this match, I catch myself no longer soaking in the sight of Mark’s divine muscle perfection, and instead licking my lips and staring fanatically at the smallest man in the mix, pale, lean, loincloth wearing Matt.
This is more a concept match than a coherent narrative. I get the impression that no one, not the wrestlers nor the producer, quite knew where this thing would go, but they knew the visual of superhuman muscle beast Mark getting swarmed by pint sized pros like Matt and Zach would be total clickbait. And, clearly, true enough, at least as far as my punching on my clicker. But the actual back and forth of the match can’t quite decide whether Mark is invincible and unbreakable, or whether the sexiest angle here is the superhuman man of steel systematically picked apart and humiliated by a couple of guys about half his size.
I do admire that the Ravaging Savages know what they’ve got in the ring with them. They immediately admire Mark’s fantasy body. “Oh my God, he’s strong!” Matt mutters in terror when Mark effortlessly hoists him up across his chest and does overhead presses like it ain’t a fucking thing. Because at 130 pounds, clearly, it ain’t. “Look at those big arms!?” Matt cries out to his partner, watching awestruck nearby. They don’t try to sell disdain for their opponent’s physical perfection. They don’t ignore that his biceps are significantly bigger around than their thighs. They size him up with wonder and awe in their eyes, and then go to town to determine if 2 ring savvy pros who, combined, barely weigh more than their opponent, can use their four limbs, two heads, and hunger for taking down the biggest beast of their careers to make this eighth wonder of the world their bitch.
Again, there’s some inconsistency in the narrative, because occasionally Mark is laughing off their best efforts and slapping them to the mat, and at other times, seemingly far less pointed attacks from the duo leave the mighty titan literally screaming in panicked agony. I think both angles are sensationally sexy, mind you. I’m turned on sensationally by the sheer panic in Matt and Zach’s voices when Mark muscles out of their best efforts and laughs in their faces, towering over them, superhuman,unstoppable, immortal. And frankly, I lose my shit multiple times when the dime and a nickel pack animals swarm all over him, nipping and ripping and tearing until the big man goes down to his knees screaming in frustrated terror. I just wish they’d paced this match with a bit more narrative tension, slowly turning the tables from one advantage to the other, rather than flipping the script multiple times with precious little rhyme or reason.
But when it comes to constructive critiques, that’s all I’ve got, because this match blows my mind as consistently as I blow my wad. When the Ravaging Savages are all over their prey, bringing him to his knees and wrapping him up in tandem dragon sleepers, the palate is classical and epic. Mark’s face is smothered underneath both Matt and Zach’s hairy armpits, his neck bent backward viciously as the boys dig their finger tips in deep to start ripping apart that mountain of muscle. Zach digs in deep to the beast’s baby smooth lower left pec, because even extending his fingers, Zach’s hands aren’t big enough to latch on to more of the expansive pectoral than that. Matt digs his claws in past the first knuckle to both trapezius muscles, pulling backward to rip the meat from the bone. It’s lush and melodramatic and sexy as fuck!
Like I said, I also love the moments when the bullets bounce right off of the superman. Suddenly grabbing hold of his mojo after being completely debilitated, Mark just laughs as the anklebiters each attempt a single leg take down simultaneously. Unmoved, the mountain of muscle just flexes, smiling broadly at the camera, displaying his magnificent dominance with sweet notes of cocky certainty. When he turns around and grabs each of his opponents by their throats, one in each massive hand, I lose it all over again watching the massive specimen of muscle pick them up off their feet, choking, sputtering, kicking futilely in mid-air. Wow, I buy it. I so, so buy it.
I think the sexiest exchange for me is the Ravaging Savages’ corner work on the leviathan. They work him over mercilessly, climbing the ropes in order for their flexible legs to stretch up high enough to plant their feet on Mark’s throats and choke him over the top turnbuckle. Matt has his hand on my button regularly, and no more directly than when he suddenly climbs Mark’s 6’4″ frame, straddles the muscle hunk’s throat (letting his loin clothed crotch linger in the handsome stud’s face for a while), and then rolls backward, hanging from those scissors, doing stomach crunches. Yep, Mark is the obviously intended object of our homoerotic objectification, but damn it all if I’m not desperate to lick Matt’s hot, taut body like a popsicle the more that the “little guy” completely dominates and humiliates the powerhouse.
Zach takes a back seat in the action as Matt really seems to savor calling the shots and being in the driver’s seat. Zach is still bouncing around like a caveman when Matt starts barking orders at him, telling his partner what holds to apply, what views to admire, what muscles to attack. No shit, the 5’4″ feral fox basically singlehandedly puts Mark Muscle away in the final 5 minutes or so, first totally owning the meat with sensationally sexy headscissors, and eventually mounting Mt. Everest and grinding his own lovely, bulging bicep mercilessly into the muscleman’s carotid artery.
Big Mark drops to his knees, starting to fade, and Matt stays with him, cinching the sleeper tighter and tighter. Zach is still bouncing around excitedly admiring his partner’s work, but the little man kicks both of the other stud’s in the ring with him to the fucking curb. “Flex now!” Matt growls dangerously, and no shit, the physique star obeys him. “How much does it hurt!?” Matt demands. “It… hurts!” Mark chokes, turning purple and going limp.
So maybe there is such a thing as too many cooks in the kitchen, because this match hits its stride and literally goes for the jugular only when Matt Blakewood has had enough of seeing flashes of superman, starts barking orders at his partner (mostly telling him to admire his work), and then very effectively uses his 5’4″ and 130 pound (gorgeous, mind you) body to crush and dominate Mark Muscle’s 6’4″ and 255 pound muscle body.
Now, I’d love to dick slap hairy, hot-stuff Zach Reno in a schoolboy pin. I’d sell a kidney to climb Mt. Muscle and follow Matt’s lead doing stomach crunches while scissoring Mark’s massive neck. But if it’s fuck, marry or kill, I’ll put a ring on Matt Blakewood so this gorgeous, sexy as fuck little stick of dynamite pro wrestler can humiliate the big men day in and day out and dedicate them all to me.
Cameron Matthews invites you, the consumer, to explain why incredibly hot pro Maverick and rising rookie Zach Reno are going at it in their new release match, Pro Wrestlers: Up Close. It implies an interesting confessional: this is a match in need of a narrative. The pace and intensity of both bearded beauties is fantastic. Zach is clearly in way, way over his head, but pro Maverick sells a solid plot, letting the hirsute rookie hang with the back and forth battle of punishing holds until Mav snarls, “I’ve had enough of this,” and opens up an industrial size can of whoop ass. He fucks Zach up relentlessly in the corner. He wraps his fingers up viciously in that manic tangle of long locks and drags the slack-jawed rookie all over the mat by his hair. Whatever Maverick’s motivation at the start of this match, he soon demonstrates dastardly delight in driving his drowning opponent to the brink of terror, threatening to break his back, snap him in half, drag out the torture a good 15 minutes past the point that the consummate pro could count the burned rookie out. I’m gasping at Maverick’s bounce off the rope moonsault, after which he crows about how brutal it must be for Zach to feel the pro’s steel clad six pack abs pounding down on him. By far the highlight for me is a flat-footed standing dropkick in which all of those bulging muscles on Maverick leap ridiculously high into the air, coil like a spring, and then explode, driving his boot heels squarely into Zach’s chin. Takes me back to being driven crazy watching Kevin von Erich defy gravity with that sort of grace and power.
So I guess I do have my theory about why it is these two stunning fantasy men are “going at it” from the start. I think impeccably groomed and perfectly appointed Maverick is seriously pissed to share the ring with Zach Reno’s trunks. The rookie’s washed out lavender pro style trunks completely distract me, so I’m going to project (a lot) here and say they drive Maverick past the breaking point.
Since Zach’s appearance in BG East’s Gazebo Grappler’s 17, we’ve seen him with an increasingly unkempt mass of panhandler rats nest on his head, hairy torso, and a thickening, full beard disguising his handsome face. My reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler, Kid Karisma chuckled and called Zach “Cave Man” when he first saw this primal look on the rook. Other than the fact that the beard is covering up way too much handsomeness (Zach, please take a cue from Maverick and clean that shit up!), I’m solidly sold on a feral, primal, diamond in the rough persona, particularly on a dazzling beauty like we know Zach to be. I think it’ll be a crime if he ever cuts his hair short again, because that mass of tangles makes opponents irresistibly drawn to drag his gorgeous ass all over the place by them, which is value added in my book. Hell, I’ll lose it for a smooth chested muscleman like Maverick 4 out of 5 times over a hairy torso, but I’m entirely sold on Zach’s tastefully clippered coat of fur. The ragged and raw edges, the arms length from a comb or scissors, the slightly uncivilized grittiness of Zach is golden as far as I’m concerned. But those trunks…
I’d like to consult with everyone’s favorite wrestling fashionista, Ty Alexander about this, but Ty appears to be giving me the cold shoulder for failing to include a photo of him in my recent post on the asses turning me on in new releases. For the record, I didn’t think there was a promo shot for Ring Release 2 that did Ty’s ass justice. I’d bend him across my knee any day, mind you. But without Ty’s expert eye, I’ll venture to argue that Zach’s trunks in Up Close fail on several points, the most egregious, I think, being that they’re a half size too big.
Take a look at Maverick’s standard black and green pro trunks. They could easily be painted on. They aren’t so tight as to give the zero body fat hunk a Michelin Man look. Just right, suction packed to his gorgeous, muscled ass. Personally, I’d like to see them with about 3 inches lower rise. Ah hell, let’s be honest, I’d give a kidney to see them ripped off his fantastic physique entirely. But to my point, they fit. Perfectly. They accentuate everything right. They are seamlessly part of the wrestler Maverick, framing his gorgeous proportions and complementing every bulge to perfection.
Zach’s trunks, by comparison, bunch up, too much fabric left hanging. We’ve seen how phenomenal his ass looks in the right trunks, so just look how these panties make those gorgeous glutes of his flatten out and disappear. If he squeezed into tights at this point, he’d be a late 80’s commercial for the social faux pas of panty lines. Maverick, on the other hand, could slide his trunked body into tights and be as smooth as… well, a muscleman’s bottom.
The coloring is wrong for Zach as well, I’d say. Washed out, the blotchy lavender makes Zach’s pale skin contrasted with his dark hair all over seem anemic. By comparison, Maverick looks vibrant, 3-dimensional, in full technicolor as the shading and shadows of his mountainous muscles pop. I know for a fact Zach can pop. It’s those fucking trunks.
Maverick delivers three (because he likes doing things in threes) awesomely intimate piledrivers to put the feral rookie down for good at the end of this match. The sight of both of their faces inches away from each other’s crotches, repeated again, and again, is what makes sense of the title of this match for me. What doesn’t make sense to me is those terrible, terrible trunks. Someone, please, rip those travesties off his body… pause…. and then give diamond in the rough Zach Reno a homoerotic wrestling fashion makeover. Please.
I’ve been obsessing lately on magnificently muscled asses. You know the kind I’m talking about. The sort that takes more than two, big, eager hands to grab hold of entirely. That type that contracts into rock hard slabs of squared off granite that could grab hold with a grip like a vice. Of course, the finest specimens belong on the backside of handsome, hunky, athletic wrestlers. Sampling the new homoerotic wrestling releases is feeding my obsession nicely.
Schwowza! Zach Reno makes what may be the most eye-catching sophomore appearance at BG East in his new release in Gazebo Grapplers 17. I haven’t checked the record, but I think it was Joe who popped his cork first and hardest upon seeing Zach debut in Tag Team Torture 17 last year. Like the match description says, the newbie bore more than a passing resemblance to Michelangelo’s David, with classic tight curls and a supple, powerful, aesthetically muscled body. At the start of his new release, he’s on his back doing stomach crunches as the scene opens. If you didn’t know it was the rookie who made some surprising appearances in the BGE Bestie nominations after just one match in 2014, you’d be forgiven for not recognizing him. He sports an insane rats nest of long, unruly hair on his head, paired beautifully with a full beard, and moderately thick body hair across his sexy torso and thick, powerful legs. If there were an award for most hair on a homoerotic wrestler, Zach would win.
And he’s tops not just in quantity of hair. His pre/post-modern do is decidedly sexy as hell. Even if it’s a little frustrating to have that fashion model face frequently covered up, there’s something primal, raw, and provocatively virile about the entire presentation. Kid Karisma agrees with me, I think. “What’s this, a cave man?” my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler chuckles when he strolls into the gazebo to find the hairy hunk working his abs.
Despite wearing a sexy, dark blue, sensationally snug pair of brief trunks, it appears that Zach is not expecting Kid K to come all up in his business, interrupting his crunches. He complains about being distracted by the strutting, alabaster vision of physical perfection circling like a bird of prey. He calls Kid K “bro,” demanding some alone time in the gazebo to sculpt his six pack.
Kid Karisma looks famished. I mean, anyone who consistently shows up with bodyfat that freakishly low has got to be carb-deprived, but there’s something about Kid K’s intensity, his eagerness, that seems a notch higher to me than usual. I know the phenom has fantastic taste in body-beautiful opponents, so I’m strongly suspecting he’s as taken with the stunningly hirsute hunk as I am. He wants to get his hands on Zach. I want to get my hands on Zach. I’m delighted to see him get his hands all over Zach.
The delectable cave man is basically trying to defend himself from cruise missiles with nothing but a wooden club. If you’re half the Kid Karisma fan I am, you’ve seen the muscled wonder build this unstoppable momentum before, swarming, ripping, crushing his overwhelmed opponent from every angle. If you love dominating trash talk half as much as I do, you’ve appreciated precisely the way supremely cocky Kid K weaves a torrent of insults and taunts that seem to reach inside of Zach’s hot, hairy chest and crush his heart.
Kid Karisma works his intoxicating magic, no surprise. But the hunky, hairy, hardbodied beauty of a rookie sells his side of the bro-bashing beautifully. There’s something dizzying to me about Kid K’s polished marble fantasy physique, blue eyes and perfectly coiffed hair, ripping apart the primal, grunting dark and dashing cave man. My socialized gut makes me associate liberal coats of body hair, fuck-it-all tangles of head hair, and an “I-eat-hipsters” bristling beard with aggression, masculinity, invulnerability. Kid K is, on face value, the more vulnerable figure, like a vision of a delicate angel, crafted entirely for pleasure. So Kid K heeling the fuck out of Zach and making the bro scream in a panic grabs me by the balls just right.
Zach turns into little more than Kid K’s plaything pretty quickly. Dazed and confused, the fratboy cave man is humiliated over and over again. At one point, Kid K literally shoves his own head underneath Zach’s arm, forcing the rook to at least look like he knows an offensive maneuver. Zach rouses to try to make Kid K regret it. Yeah, Kid K has never heard the word “regret.” The most intoxicating moment by far for me is near the end, both hunks wedgied lusciously, Zach slipped snug and intimately in a front-face sleeper. He’s been beaten for days, but still, fireworks go off in my head when I watch the cave man struggle, then slowly sag. His arms flail but then droop to his sides. His back drops, his legs growing weak, as his conqueror sucks down every ounce of conscious strength and fight left in him. Then he hangs there in Kid K’s embrace, completely out, still on his feet because Kid K is holding him up, relishing the feel of the moment.
I still say being nominated for Top Babyface for 2014 was just too soon for Zach. He just had far too little screen time to compete with magnificent contenders like Kip, Jake, and my pick, Denny Cartier. But January 1 is such an arbitrary temporal boundary. The momentum between Tag Team Torture 17 and Zach’s destruction in Gazebo 17 is deeply compelling. I don’t know what’s in store for him, but I hope it’s prolific and involves getting his mop of curls yanked mercilessly and his beautifully hairy ass spanked relentlessly. And I desperately hope he calls more top shelf heels like Cage Thunder, Guido Genatto and, please-oh-please-oh-please Kid Vicious “bro.” I’d pay premium prices to watch that unfold.
There’s been some confusion about the BG East Best of 2014 poll. For the record, it is still open, and will remain so until midnight tomorrow night, February 8. You can find the poll through the homepage by clicking on the “All 2014 Releases” button and then clicking the poll banner at the top of the page, or simply click here to go to the poll directly.
Let’s take a look at a few more categories. What defines a babyface is fiercely debated among some wrestling fans. When I’m thinking of babyfaces (which is often), I’m picturing a wrestler who is eye-catchingly beautiful, earnest, optimistic, trusting in the rules of wrestling and human decency to make the wrestling ring an honest to god contest of strength and technical skill. A babyface is stoked to be cheered and admired. He expresses contempt for vile evil doers who take short cuts and disregard rules and good sportsmanship. As I look at the field of BG East Bestie nominees for Top Babyface of 2014, that’s the standard I’m holding up to each of this sizzling hot leading men. Let’s take a look at who’s in the running.
For me, this category comes down to the tried and true, solidly developed babyface characters of Jake Jenkins and Denny Cartier. I think JJ’s momentum and unblinkingly fanatic fan base makes him the top contender for the popular vote, but my personal vote is finally leaning Denny’s way. JJ has an edge to him in some matches, a cocky, smirking, I’ll-go-as-low-down-as-you-dare-me-to attitude, whereas Denny just clenches that Clark Kent jaw and dishes out due respect almost every time. And in 2014 he had the distinction of taking that upright intensity to introduce Lon Dumont to mat wrestling, including finally getting bulldozed by the notorious pro heel. The dark horse who could defy the odds this year I think may be Kip Sorrel. I’m always a little surprised not to hear more buzz about the living Ken doll, so I’m wondering if there’s a silent majority out there just waiting to make Kip upend JJ.
Now let’s turn our attention to the category of Best Squash. This is a category that instantly turns off some fans who just don’t enjoy one-sided crushings. I, however, am not that type of fan. I fucking love gasping, dangerous maulings when both the pitcher and catcher sell it with enthusiasm. I think we have some notable contenders and, perhaps, some surprising absences in this year’s slate.
Two matches from Demo 17, two from Demo 18, and JJ and Guido showing up in multiple contenders? Very complex field to try to handicap. Personally, I’m going with the one and only non-Demo entry, because Dr. Cooper and Leo Tomasi owned me hardest and truly surprised me when I noticed how hot I found it to see Leo bleed. Dr. Cooper is an incredible heel, perhaps made more so by the distance he’s traveled since his heel turn. Honestly, I’m not sure at all how to predict where the majority may lean in this one with all of the overlaps, so I’m going out on a limb and saying I think the majority (and the hardcore Coop fans) will swing the vote the same way I’m going, with Jobberpaloozer 13. I’m also demonstrating the size of my balls by saying I think Jonny v Nicholas is a serious underdog this year. I have to also note that all of these Best Squash contenders are ring matches from just 3 products. What happened to Passion & Punishment 1, with Mason Brooks spanking Drake Marcos like the naughty boy his is, which may have been the most satisfying squash of the year in my book?
Now for the newest category in the BG East Besties, the vote for “Best Submissions in One Match.” I struggled with the variable construct of this category. It’s not “most submissions,” though I suppose some could vote with that interpretation. It’s not the best “submission” in a match, because the nominees aren’t specific submissions, but the matches themselves. It’s also hard to miss the fact that the nominees for Best Squash line up very closely with nominees for “Best Submissions in One Match,” making me think the nominating committee also lacked a little clarity in the scope and range of this debut category.
So I’m choosing to dole out my vote for this category based on particular submissions (to be specific, the one’s I’ve highlighted above). If it were “most innovative submissions,” I’d easily vote for Jonny & Nicholas. If it were most terrifying submissions, I’d probably take Guido and Kirk. I’m picking the best submission as in the one that I found sexiest, the one that recurred in my early morning wet dreams, the one that I replayed in real life and in my fantasies most, which was, for me, Trey Dixon’s poolside face-to-crotch orgasmic headscissors. Since the category itself seems spongy to me, predicting a winner is tough, but I’m thinking Cameron Matthews and LJL’s fans will swing this their way. I think the longest shot is Guido and Kirk, both because Guido fans will be split and because Kirk is such a new commodity.
So the Bard-approved ballot as it stands now looks like this:
The polls close Sunday at midnight (EST, I’m guessing), so don’t contemplate your votes for the Best of BG East in 2014 too long. If you haven’t submitted your votes yet, consider this your voter’s guide with only a tad bit of electioneering to keep it saucy. Today, let’s take a look at a couple more categories. First up, best ring match.
I’ve got to punch my hanging chad for Tag Team Torture 17, because 4 magnificent specimens of wrestling meat beat 2 about 99 out of 100 times for me (it’s all about math). 3 debuts and every fucking one of them is absolutely on point and golden? That’s a work of art, and add Lon Dumont’s snarls and flexes, and I’m done for. I suspect I may out of the mainstream, and if so, I’m expecting to see Z-Man/Sorell or Guido/JJ own the plurality. The dark horse odds defier I think has to be Jobe/Peter. Jobe’s crotch has its own clamoring fan base, though…
Next for today, I want to muse a bit on one of my favorite categories, Best Debut. I love fresh blood, the suspense of new faces, who will they be, what will they sound like, can they fucking wrestle? There were outstanding newbies hitting the scene this year, so let’s take a look at the nominees.
Another tough, tough category. I’m partial to the nominees that demonstrate some depth, so although a couple of these studs could easily be major players after a couple more matches, I lean squarely toward punching my ticket for either Ty or Richie. I’d be happy to settle the close call with a rip ‘n’ strip match between the two of them to determine the winner of my vote, but short of that, I’ve got to say Ty Alexander has done more in his debut year with BG East than almost anyone I can remember. You’ve got to go back to Eli Black to really see quite the same momentum so soon. I’m sorry not to see another slightly more experienced newbie like Kayden Keller on the ticket, and I’m suspicious as to whether Cal’s dazzling beauty (if not stellar wrestling) may attract the masses. Even though he’s my number 2, I think Richie is the dark horse long shot bet here to consider. Not a ton of buzz, but a solid wrestler, luscious body, and that rare combo of adolescent face on a hot, hard, mature man’s body.