|Austin Wolf wrestles himself|
|Nicco Sky isn't sure what he signed up for when Austin shoves him to his back|
The closest that Randy Blue appears to get to stroking my wrestling kink with Austin is that he seems to shove and bully Nicco a bit. Hot? Yes. Wrestling, not quite. He pins Nicco's wrists over his head and climbs on top, a little fear playing across Nicco's face as the 6'4" muscle monster mounts him without a smile. Damn hot? Hell yes. Wrestling? Still not quite.
|Does this shot come in a wall-size mural format?|
I've only seen the preview (I'm still toying with where to squeeze money out of my porn budget), so I don't know exactly how the boys choreograph the approach to this truly awesome work of art constituting a bearhug/cock-suck/rim-job combination with an added bonus of enjoying the sight of Nicco massaging Austin's beautiful glutes in the palms of his hands. Wildly erotic? Oh, fuck yes! Wrestling? Well, I need more context, but bear with me here... Paint out the living room, the sofa, the rug, the sketchy art, the lamp, the houseplant. Now paint this scene inside a wrestling ring, Austin's feet planted in damp sweat stains, Nicco's wrestling trunks ripped to shreds near one corner, and Austin's trunks carefully folded on a top turnbuckle. With me? Why has this beast not yet been seen climbing into a wrestling ring!?
|"The Wolf" would make an epic fuck-stakes finisher!|
|Sign this muscle hunk up yesterday!|
So perhaps we don't all agree on the line that wrestling for a gay audience shouldn't cross when it comes to potentially sublimated wrestling kink. But surely, in the name of all that's good and beautiful, we can all agree that this gorgeous ass, in full contact, fuck stakes ring wrestling, would be a stroke of pure genius, can't we?
|Austin surely knows the fickle tastes of gay fans.|
|The homoerotic wrestler platonic ideal: Austin Wolf|
Every so often I get a comment or an email essentially laying out precisely that argument for some hot stud I've horribly shortchanged in my reviews. I've been called ignorant, tasteless, blind... any number of supposed deficiencies have been proposed to explain why my tastes are so impaired as not to recognize the perfection of the object of someone else's raving fanaticism. So I'll try not to insist that you're seriously damaged if you don't jump on the bandwagon of pleading with the powers that be to transform this muscle god into the homoerotic wrestling god that he was meant to be from birth. You don't have to agree with me here. I'll be okay with it if you aren't as much an Austin Wolf fanatic as I am. But for those of you who are, and I know you're out there, write your favorite producer of homoerotic wrestling products today (and tomorrow) and tell them to find this hunk of meat and get him in the ring. He's got a date with destiny, and I'm telling you, remember the title "Catchweight XXX-Fight!"