When I saw him debut against bad boy Skull, I felt an instant erotic connection with A.B. His body is tantalizingly tasty. My earlier comments about his physique notwithstanding, he's got fantastic proportions, beautiful olive skin, and legs that look astonishingly strong on his 5'7", 150 pound frame. Watching that match from Masked Mayhem 7, it felt like I was watching an eager rookie, green around the gills and still working out how to feel comfortable in a speedo and a wrestling mask. But the operative word for me is "eager." Angelo looks like he's ready to fuck someone from the start, and the wrestling only stokes his lustful fire more with each twist and turn of the match. His cock takes up more and more room in his tight white trunks, as he's forced to dial up the down-n-dirty tactics to keep pace with that little devil, Skull. Each passing moment of the sweaty mat action makes him (and me) harder. His opponent, wrestling here under a pseudonym, clearly has more experience. He has more mat savvy. But there's something irrepressible about Angelo's determination to rub his throbbing cock against his opponent that makes me deeply satisfied by the atypical rookie victory.
A.B. is back in Masked Mayhem 8. It seems as if he's soaked up by osmosis some of the darkness of his first opponent, continuing his transformation as a fallen angel. This time he's sporting incredibly hot fantasy-wear mesh tights that leave plenty of room for that irrepressible cock of his to grow. He's aroused from the start, though, as he eyes and engages in mutual stroking of his shredded twink opponent, Aqua, also better known under another name when not wrestling masked. Aqua seems to have the same reaction to A.B. that I do. The twink's gaze roams over Angelo's hot body slowly. His hands rise lustfully to feel A.B.'s torso. And the first words out of Aqua's mouth are acknowledgment that he likes what he sees.
A.B. seems more at home on the mat this outing. He takes the initiative, just like he takes Aqua's crotch in hand over and over again. A.B. rubs his cock in the twink's face every chance he gets (and he gets many). He works up a quick sheen of sweat, which always dials up the homoeroticism in my book.
It's that erection that just captivates me, though. A.B. enjoys this work. It's not the sort of enjoyment that comes with lots of humor and playfulness and camp (not that there's anything wrong with that). It's not even the sort of enjoyment that comes from being tested in competitive physical combat (again, not a thing wrong with that, either). But it's the sort of enjoyment that a man wearing nothing but a mesh thong with an expandable banana hammock built-in just can't hide.
A.B. is physically aroused by wrestling Aqua. It's unmistakable. There's an authenticity to it that's more than just evidenced by the erection. He doesn't smile. There's no hint of self-conciousness. It's as if he's completely oblivious to the fact that there's a cameraman dancing around the room catching every provocative angle. This is what I mean when I talk about "all-in" wrestling. Everything is happening on the mat. There's nothing spilling over to shatter the illusion that these two are completely focused on nothing other than each other and the battle for physical and sexual (and, dare I say, spiritual) domination. There's all sorts of mystery about a masked man that leaves me guessing about Angelo Blanco. But one thing that I have no uncertainty about at all is the fact that he gets off on wrestling every ounce as much as I do. He isn't just going through the motions of giving a homoerotic wrestling kink audience a show. He's got to be one of us. And especially for that (in addition to his fucking sexy body and his paralyzing kiss and his beautiful cock that figures prominently in the culmination of this match and catapults him into my criteria for joining the pornboy ranks), I really, really like Angelo Blanco.