Sunday, January 29, 2012

Real Friends

I've got deadlines coming out my ears, so things have been pretty quiet around here lately. That isn't to suggest that I'm not thoroughly immersed in the world of homoerotic wrestling still. Somehow, there always seems to be time for that in my life, in one form or another.

BG East Boss, Kid Leopard, makes Sailor Rob his bitch
I was exchanging emails with a long-time online contact and writing collaborator a couple of days ago. We know each other primarily through the venue of homoerotic wrestling fiction.  I mentioned in my last email something about BG East. He replied that he'd never heard of them.

Kid Vicious meditates on the connection between pain and pleasure
Wha-ha-huh?! I studied his reply closer to figure out where I was misreading it. But no. Never heard of BG East. Was he joking? It doesn't look like it. He apparently loves some hot, erotic, beautifully bodied wrestling but is unaware of BG East, which by their own account have been producing exactly that (hot, erotic, beautifully bodied wrestling) since 1980! I became aware of them about 14 or 15 years ago, and I've been pretty much obsessed ever since. So imagine my shock to learn that a fellow kinkster who totally gets off on the same sort of wrestling action that I do (as far as I can tell from comparing wrestling fiction notes), has absolutely no idea who BG East is.

Badboy Joe Mazetti folds hunky Brad Rochelle up like gift wrap
Simply amazing! This disclosure reveals a few things to me. For one, this online collaborator clearly does not frequently read this blog. It's simply impossible that someone could even occasionally read neverland and come away having never heard of BG East (or any of the other companies I finance with my homoerotic wrestling purchases, but especially BG East). Most of the feedback and ongoing conversations I'm involved in start with something I've said on the blog, so it catches me off guard that someone who knows my wrestling kink rather well doesn't linger much around these parts. No shame, mind you. I'm not suggesting there's anything wrong with not reading my frequently convoluted, often self-contradictory musings about what turns me on about homoerotic wrestling. Just surprised that someone who's read a lot of my writing doesn't read it here much.

Jonny Firestorm is out to destroy prettyboy Alexi Adamov
More interestingly for me, this revelation surprises me because I figure everyone who's into homoerotic wrestling fiction online is also part of the fan base of homoerotic wrestling videos. I wasn't conscious of it, but I was assuming that the gay wrestling video tent entirely contained within it the gay wrestling fiction audience. Homoerotic wrestling videos came before wrestling writing for me, so I've been under the assumption that everyone who I interact with around homoerotic wrestling fiction has also come by the same path. Assumption checked.

Mr. Joshua shows Darius that he's got the right tool for the job
That anyone with a love for homoerotic wrestling in any genre or format should just not recognize the name BG East, however, seems like a missed opportunity for some hot pounding wrestling delights. I'm fully transparent in admitting often that my own fiction is frequently drawn from the best and most inspiring of what turns me on in the videos I watch. I certainly seem to recognize many of the same angles, perspectives, body types and holds in gay wrestling graphics/visual art that are, at least, "in keeping" with some of the gorgeous wrestling that good folks like BG East produce so well.

Brooklyn Bodywrecker taunts us with Mr. Joshua's naked ass
So anyone who happens to read this post, perhaps surfing through following a search link for wrestling fiction or some particular celebrity wrestling fetish that you and I share, if you're gay and hot for wrestling and haven't extensively explored the world of BG East, go there now. If the names Kid Leopard, Kid Vicious, Jonny Firestorm, Brad Rochelle, Alexi Adamov and Joshua Goodman (that's Mr. Joshua to you!!!) don't ring a bell, and if anything that rings my bell rings your bell, then you should avail yourself of some awesome wrestlers and action. And if you and I exchange emails and you report being completely unaware of BG East, or Can-Am, or Thunder's Arena, or Rock Hard Wrestling, then don't be surprised if, after I get over being gobsmacked, I immediately tell you to walk, not run, to any and all of these find purveyors of fine wrestling kink.

Jose and his jackhammer pound hunky Greg Leary into the mat
As far as I'm concerned, real friends don't let friends remain unaware of hot, homoerotic wrestling action!

Thursday, January 26, 2012


Thunder's Arena's Coupe shows off his vascularity
As I mentioned in my last post, there's a lot about Thunder's Arena's Coupe that turns me on. I could go on for days about the intoxicating brew of his freakish physical development mixed with self-depracating humor and a strong chaser of insecurity. I could linger for hours at a time over the gargantuan slabs of beef that are his glutes. He sports the proportions of a superhero, ripped from the imagination of some barely suppressed gay comic book artist. But for today, I'm captured by the effect that Coupe's vascularity has on me. The ropes of thick veins stretched across his arms and shoulders drive me nuts!

BG East's Lon Dumont is shredded!
In Rookie Wreckers 1, Lon Dumont is in astonishing shape. His body is straight out of my college anatomy and physiology textbook. On the road to competing in several bodybuilding competitions soon after his humiliation of the beefy beauty, young Morgan Cruise, Lon had already whittled away every gram of body fat, until there was just nothing left but his gorgeous, smooth skin stretched across his skeletal muscles. With simply no padding, you can clearly see the sharp edges of his joints, the lay of the muscle fibers themselves, and the spiderweb of veins feeding his awesomely pumped muscles. With hunky Morgan tied up helplessly in the ropes and forced to watch, Lon took an opportunity to practice some of his mandatory poses. Admiring his own side chest pose, Lon marveled at the roadmap of striations and veins carved across his cut pecs. "Look at that!" he demands of Morgan, in awe at the sight of his own astonishing fitness.

Thunder's Arena's King Conan: built to impress (and crush)
Aussie pro bodybuilder, Conan at Thunder's is nearly too big for my tastes. If I had a man this size inviting me to worship his physique like the god he most certainly is, I almost wouldn't know where to start. However, I think I'd figure it out, and veiny ropes bulging just beneath the skin would hold my attention for quite some time. And speaking of holding, I'd go deep into debt to pay every penny it would be worth to have Conan lock my head between those veiny thighs in a deep, suffocating face-to-crotch scissors and have him dick whip my face.

BG East's recent masked muscle freak discovery, Magnus, left me nearly as much in awe of him as that lucky bastard gym bunny, Surge. All that beef hanging from Magnus' legs require thick, bulging veins to supply his quads, hamstrings and calves with the nourishment they need. Damn, that's hot!

Can-Am's Steve Sterling - tags and bags his opponents with
his overwhelming muscle development
Can-Am's classic muscle beast, Steve Sterling, had a gorgeous... well, a gorgeous everything! But in the heat of competition, when he'd strain and flex and inevitably outmuscle the lambs led to slaughter in front of him, the veins in his arms would swell to the surface and bring me, like so many of his opponents, to my knees.

Thiago's muscles look ready to explode as he counters
Jobe's oh-so-tight rear bearhug
Can-Am's Thiago Diaz' upper body is jaw-droppingly sculpted. The muscle mass he carries on his arms, shoulders and chest is almost unbelievable. I almost wonder if he's wearing some blow-up muscle suit to explain his astonishing thickness (not to mention the muscle that's challenging the seams of his trunks!). When Thiago flexes, straining to power out of a fiercely intimate rear bear hug by sadist cockmaster, Jobe Zander, the vascularity that flares up across his upper arms and shoulders pushes me right to the edge of self-control (and frequently right over the edge).

I'm on the record for being turned on by a diversity of bodies. It isn't that the details don't matter to me, but that I'm a fan of all sorts of packages for each set of sweet, provocative details they have. By no means do my wrestling turn-ons require bodybuilders to satisfy what ignites my erotic tastes. Lean meanies, beefy bruisers, tasty twinks... hairy, smooth, pretty boys and ugly mugs... fratboy loveliness, perfectly seasoned maturity... I'm blessed by all sorts of buttons that ignite my homoerotic wrestling fantasies. Gorgeous, bulging, pulsing veins rising to the surface of a rock hard body is right up there with some of the qualities that turn me on the most.

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

The Biggest Loser

Coupe's back! This makes me happy. Coupe is a muscle freak that rocks me every ounce as hard as his stunning body is (hard, that is). His arms and chest are like a road map of thick, blue veins. His 6'1", 215 pound body is tanned a freakish mocha that convinces me he's got to be yet another competition bodybuilder-turned-wrestler. His quads look thicker than his waist, and this minuscule fraction of body fat is probably not indicative of an entirely healthy, happy diet. There are some elements to the package that is Thunder's Coupe that could go either way for me. Too much a vascular muscle freak, too many monster veins and synthetic skin tone can become more than I can get into. Somehow, Coupe stays just within the lines of homoerotic wrestling fantasy material for me.  His personality may be the piece of the puzzle that tips the scales the right direction. Some of his on camera banter with Cameron Mathews from a ways back was fantastically charming. He's got a sense of humor. His wrestling persona is oddly self-depracating when packaged in that superhuman physique. He loses... a lot. And there's something intoxicating about watching all that mind-blowing muscularity manipulated, exploited and owned. That he's back at Thunder's for more makes me happy not only for the eye candy, but the enjoyment of witnessing both his Superman assets paired with an adorable vulnerability.

Coupe and Dallas meet for Bodybuilder Battle 48 as they both lounge around the Thunder's Arena living room. They start a little pissing contest about who's been brutalized the worst. It's a homoerotic wrestling take on "biggest loser," as both notorious whipping boys take ironic pride in boasting their most humiliating defeats. In a battle of jobbers, who's the jobberiest?

Aptly named Big Sexy shows up to light a fire under these boys. I appreciate the sentiment. While I find a distinct allure to a squash or a destined-to-job muscleman, if there's no pretense of an ego on the line, then it's just not very homoerotic for my tastes. Eye candy is nice. Pretty bodies on display are pleasing. But if the wrestling has no heart, it doesn't tweak my wrestling kink. So Big Sexy offers $500 to whichever notorious loser can finally chalk up a decisive victory. Coupe is eager to take the challenge. Dallas looks less  hopeful.

On the Thunder's mat, Dallas cannot take his eyes off of Coupe's sculpted pecs. "You're huge!" he mutters with a dumbshit grin on his face.  Big Sexy leans toward Coupe conspiratorially. "I'm pretty sure you're going to win..." he confides to Coupe. Then he turns his attention to his former chore boy to explain, "...cause you're shitty."

Dallas mutters, embarrassed, "Me too."  As the action finally commences, there's more than a helping of the typical Thunder's camp that bounces off of me like rubber. Dallas, in particular, is about 3.5% wrestler, 96.5% ham sandwich from start to finish in this match up. Reminiscent of many a "fight" between me and my older brother when I was about 6 years old (which was just not homoerotic), Dallas goes for an "Indian burn" early in the match. The boys laugh at themselves uncomfortably for the first 10 minutes or so. Personally, I'm attracted by a build up of tension, but with each snort and nervous chuckle, they frustratingly release the tension and reduce my satisfaction.

Back to the issue of eye candy, however, Coupe looks amazing. Returning from the awkward cuts showing extensive need for editing the original tape, Coupe is frequently found flexing his muscle freak physique for no other reason than he knows he looks so fucking hot. It's the eye candy aspect that keeps me watching when Dallas' ham makes me just feel uncomfortable for these big boys. Slowly, Coupe settles firmly into character. He easily puts Dallas on his back and forces him to strum his washboard abs. They trade bear hugs that show off Coupe's munchable striated glutes. When Dallas manages an improbable schoolboy pin and then cradle, Coupe's mind-blowing muscles are stretched and displayed from nearly every angle. Spread-eagled and bridging, it makes me long to offer another $500 to Dallas if he'll just keep Coupe locked up long enough for me to seriously study his captured crotch up close... with my hands... and my tongue.

Coupe eventually hits a note that turns me on without reservation. It's his crowing, gloating muttering of the phrase, "All day..." that finally sells me. He pounds Dallas' soft tummy. He claws his pecs. He scoops him up like absolutely nothing and parades the unemployed pizza delivery boy around the mat with growing pleasure at the feel of being in charge. "All day," he mutters with each compromising position he lays down on his continually clowning opponent. "All day," he says, slamming Dallas to his back.  He seamlessly transitions from the body slam to an armlock, cranking Dallas' elbow backward painfully. "Is that not the way it's supposed to go?" Coupe asks, chuckling, this time not in nervous self-consciousness, but in cocky confidence.  "This is called 'Getting Fucked Up,' man," Coupe gloats.

When Dallas wrestled for Naked Kombat as Parker London, he was hot, intense, and all business. So I know that he can do something other than clown around. He also rode his NK opponent like a pony before force feeding him his cock and plowing his ass, so I'm ready to cut Dallas some slack and not over-interpret his clownishness here as contempt for his audience. But it takes some considerable heat on the part of Coupe to avoid being doused by the cold shower of Dallas' screwing around and laughing.  When Coupe literally beats a final submission out of him, stretched backward across his thigh and pounding Dallas' soft core like a sledge hammer, it's an erotic relief/release for me to see something that looks like powerful, beautiful physical domination. If the rest of the match was as gorgeously sold, if Dallas just channeled a little of his pornboy Parker persona to put a little ego on the mat, this could have been a thoroughly rousing scrap.

As it is, I'm just happy to see Coupe in action again, and I can generate some serious enthusiasm for the moments of wrestling kink allure that he works himself into. Now, if he'd peel off those canary posing trunks and ride Dallas around the mat like a pony, this fun little 27 minute diversion would be seriously epic!

Monday, January 23, 2012

Odysseus Arrives

I completely understand why 44% of you selected wrestling hunk Jake Jenkins as the homoerotic wrestler who best embodies the spirit of Odysseus. He was the runaway winner in the field of 6 nominees (7, really, since SP put in a write-in vote for Wade Cutler). Reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month Rex Braddock, looking an awful lot like Steeve Reeves from his sword and sandal film days, had support early in the voting. But tough young Jake came from behind to spank Rex's bubble butt handily, garnering 2 votes to his 1 when all was said and done.

When Jake hit the scene as the very definition of Rock Hard Wrestling, I had a hit from the chatter that we were falling into two categories: Jake Jenkins fanatics vs Austin Cooper fanatics. There's not a thing wrong with blond bombshell Austin, mind you, but I was instantly in the Jake camp. He's clearly a well-trained athlete, including bringing solid amateur wrestling skills with him to the ring. Kid Karisma probably put it best, dubbing Jake a "fucking monkey" for his ability to climb and jump, swing from the ropes and leap through the air inside the ring. Needless to say, he's also hot as hell. And he's quickly developed great instincts for selling a story, conquering more than his fair share of bigger opponents and also suffering like someone with intimate knowledge of what it feels like to get owned.

More to the point of Jake-as-Odysseus, he can totally work for me as a Greek hero, fearlessly facing the wrath of the gods determined to break him in body and spirit. His hot muscled body trapped, squeezed, and tied up helplessly by one sadistic opponent after another (particularly in his BGE work) makes it no stretch at all to think of him as the pawn of Olympus, battered, beaten, crushed and humiliated, but never completely broken.

There's a virtuous "everyman" quality about Odysseus that Jake just barely qualifies for in my book. If Odysseus didn't have a little god-spunk in his own genetic recipe, Jake might look just too tasty for the role. But Jake works an awfully compelling mixture of both cocky self-confidence and intoxicating vulnerability at the same time. Through sheer grit, he can endure apparently endless suffering to overcome the odds and bring a relative giant to his knees. In expert hands, though, he can also get chipped away, his iron clad core of muscle and fortitude that much more luscious as he goes down time after time to the dark powers of domination and injustice.

Odysseus brushes against complete destruction over and over again. He's a mere mortal (a hot, macho, battle-sculpted mortal, of course), so against the divine interference of gods and demigods, he's tricked and toppled repeatedly. He's helpless and hopeless, if not for divine intervention that allows him to fight another day. And when it comes to Jake, there are few wrestlers currently in the business who I'd rather see soaked in hard-working sweat, tied up bare assed and in agony like a pretzel, refusing to submit despite facing absolutely zero chance of extricating himself from his tragic circumstances.

BG East Arena has preview pics of Jake in a Wet and Wild match, soaked in see-through speedos, on the edge of getting drowned by Poseidon/Christian Taylor. There are some homoerotic wrestlers that I love watching in a squash (either end of the stick), but Jake, like Odysseus, is most entertaining and lovely when he's working, working hard, struggling, fighting, battling with every awesome muscle and acrobatic ability, straining to keep me entirely wrapped up in the suspense.

And speaking of suspense, thanks for your words of encouragement and support in my own epic journey to get home. Happily, I finally made it!

Friday, January 20, 2012

My Odyssey

You would not believe the week I've had. I've slept in three different time zones, been snowed in twice, re-routed 3 times, and I've been working my ass off every step of the way. I feel a lot like Odysseus, tackling one epic obstacle after another thrown at me by the gods. And even as I type this, the same demonic snow storm that has trapped me once already has left me snowbound yet again, far from home.

I don't know what I did to offend the gods, or what bad karma I accrued, or how unlucky I am to have defied probability on so many counts to come up on the short end of the stick. In any case, thank the gods that I at least have internet access now. The subzero wind chill and blinding snow outside are screaming my name, but I'm warm and sheltered for the time being. I've been away from the blog so long that I'm struggling to get my groove back. So I'm just going to ask for a little help from you all.

You know the story of Odysseus. Greek hero, thwarted by the ancient gods from his trek to return home to his family after fighting valiantly in the Trojan War. He battled a cyclops. He was briefly made an amnesiac by the Lotus Eaters. Half his men were turned to swine by the witch Circe.  He resisted the temptations of the ensnaring voices and vaginas of the Sirens. At every turn, the gods thwarted his journey home, threatening to take his life, battering him with the strength of all the elements of earth, sea and sky.

So my question for you, readers, is which homoerotic wrestler best embodies the spirit of Odysseus?  He's got to be able to suffer overwhelming odds and profound injustice and keep battling back. He's got to make women swoon, but prefer the company of his virile young men who follow him faithfully. He's got to be athletic, strong, commanding and inspire both divine lust and ire. Which wrestler do you most readily picture in a loin cloth, tied to the mast of a ship, swelling with lust and driven nearly mad with desire? You can nominate your own by commenting below, but here are the nominees I'm placing before you for consideration...

Brad Rochelle
With the buzz over Brad Rochelle's return after a long absence from BG East wrestling, I think he could have the look and the persona to be Odysseus. And perhaps he has his own heroic Odyssey to explain is long absence from the scene.

Cameron Mathews
Cameron Mathews has got to be one of the hardest working hunks in wrestling, which earns him a nomination for the role of Odysseus. Hot body, handsome face, astonishingly lush ass, and an all around good guy... the makings of an epic hero.

Thunder's Arena's Boxxy
 Boxxy is my wild card in this deck. I know he's made a big splash at Thunder's, and a helpful reader recently pointed me to his bare-all solo work at Randy Blue. He could have the making of a sincere, heroic face who gets pummeled and pounded by injustice but remains true to his belief that by virtue and hard work, he deserves to win in the end.

Jake Jenkins
Jake Jenkins stars in all sorts of fantasies of mine, and it's no stretch at all to picture him in a loin cloth, battling the giant cyclops, taking a beating and relentlessly bouncing back for more. And I suspect that like me, there are plenty of men and women who'd lie, cheat and steal for his affections, just like Odysseus!

Can-Am's Paul Perris
Too literal? Whatever. We know that the classic bodybuilder/kickboxer/homoerotic wrestling icon Paul Perris looks mouthwatering when tied up. This man driven wild by the Siren's song, willingly tied to the mast of his ship by his men, would be awfully picture perfect.

Rex/Rex Braddock
Finally, homoerotic wrestler of the month Rex Braddock has the facial hair and the gorgeous, hairy body of a Greek hero. There's a raw edge to Rex that I love. He's somehow gorgeous and yet not pretty. He's a beast of a man, but neither quite fits my typology of a gym bunny or a bodybuilder. He could be an everyman hero, no doubt. The object of lust, ire and a never-say-die willingness to stare down whatever the gods might throw at him.

Let me know what wrestler you think fits the bill of the classic Greek hero Odysseus by voting in the margin at the right. And wish me luck defying the gods in my own journey home.

Monday, January 9, 2012

The Return of the King

Young, rookie Brad Rochelle pumped and ready for business
Kid Leopard promised me this summer when I visited the BG East compound that we haven't seen the last of legendary BG East babyface, Brad Rochelle. Like so many other homoerotic wrestling fans, I was thrilled by this news. The instant I saw Brad as the cover boy on the front page of the BG East website about 13 years ago or so I was sold.  Such a handsome face; such a gorgeous, hard body! Just that one cover image of Brad made him an instant star of countless homoerotic wrestling fantasies.  So when I actually got my hands on my first glimpse of him working all those mouth-watering muscles in the ring, he was already cemented as a homoerotic wrestling fantasy man. Watching his matches over the following years has never disappointed me. His body, like his wrestling persona, matured, which as far as I'm concerned is only good news. After a few early career victories, he was stuck deeply in the rut of jobberdom as The Boss bound his hands behind his back to be everyone's practice dummy in The Contract series. The endless humiliation and vicious abuse of his body and spirit finally made the babyface break, and all those nasty dirty tricks and vile exploitation he'd suffered over the years came back to haunt newbie babyface after newbie babyface. About 3 years ago BG East released a tag team match that they found in their archives from Brad's earlier work, but the last we saw of the Brad storyline was his 2006 appearance in his signature series, The Contract, enlisting a reluctant Jonny Firestorm to join him in teaching Patrick Donovan and Steven Thomas a lesson they won't soon forget.

Then Brad seemingly disappeared. His fan group has continued to pine away, but as the years ticked by with no sight of him, even the most diehard Brad fanatics began to despair.  The Boss dropped hints in the BG East fan group from time to time, assuring everyone that Brad was still around and would someday see the light of day again, but after 5 years, longing mentions of Brad on the boards tend to spark sneering slap downs from commenters who've grown convinced that he's officially retired. My report of The Boss' promise that we'd see Brad again notwithstanding, the ranks of believers have grown thin lately. And then, like a vision from beyond the veil, The Boss posted 6 picture proofs that Brad's days in the ring and on the mats are undeniably not over!

Brad Rochelle, still wrestling and filling out his trunks exceedingly well!
Counting myself among the Brad fanatics of this world, I had a delightful exchange with Kid Leopard this past weekend that resulted in The Boss granting me the opportunity post a few more exclusive, as-yet unseen photos from Brad's return. These pics seen here, along with the pics from the fan groups, assure me that my erotic dreams will once again be haunted by fresh images of Brad Rochelle inspiration. Prior to this, fans have debated what time might have done to this fantasyman. While not identical to his rookie body of 13 years ago (who is!?), I'm thrilled to see that he's stayed in shape and, if anything, is filling out his awesomely tight trunks possibly better than ever. That ass!

Brad cracks Chace LaChance across his knee.
For years, the legions of hopefuls have been speculating about who Brad ought to meet in his momentous return. More exclusive pics show further detail of Brad's impending appearance against some of the prettiest babyfaces to arrive on the scene since last we saw Brad. Go-go boy bombshell Chace LaChance has never looked better than stretched vulnerably across Brad's leg in a luscious over-the-knee backbreaker!

Attila Dynasty winces (and bulges) in the grasp of the veteran.
Acrobatic prettyboy Attila Dynasty gets the same treatment. Brad looks to me like he's carving up a Thanksgiving turkey with Attila's astonishing package bulging temptingly in Brad's face. Both Chace and Attila are at that crucial early career pivot point. They've both lost humiliatingly. They've both most recently chalked up some very entertaining victories. Not unlike an early career Brad, they look primed to either become forces to be reckoned with in the BG East stable, or to join the ranks of epic jobbers, of which perhaps no one is more epic than Brad himself.  Brad appears to have returned to tip the scales toward jobberdom for pretty Chace and Attila!

Babyface teamwork comes back to bite Brad in the butt.
Chace and Attila, on the other hand, appear none too eager to roll over submissively and let the icon put them in their place. The lovely young bucks clearly don't go easy on the legend.  Opponents have been torturing Brad's beautiful back for more than a decade, and Chace and Attila look determined to bend the veteran hunk past the point of no return and cut short his much anticipated return before it really starts.

Brad is living large and in charge, flexing overtop of 2 defeated prettyboys.
I can't attest to the sequence of the photos, but whether earlier or later in the confrontation, at some point Brad has bested both beautiful boys and stacked them like firewood on top of one another in the middle of the ring as he flexes overtop of them. Perhaps Brad proves, once again, that he's worth more than two babyface rookies who might have visions of filling his shoes as the resident BG East babyface heart throb?

Brad's 1-finger salute to the doubters and haters
The time away has done nothing to make Brad's body less tantalizing, nor his attitude less contemptuous. The Boss sent me this pic of Brad flipping a middle finger to all the doubters and haters out there who tried to rewrite history with him as anything short of the headliner muscle jock that made countless fans weak at the knees. The wrestling singlet is doing wonders for me here.  Those are eye-catching bulges (the biceps, the shoulders, the pecs, the crotch...)!

Is that a floppy-haired Denny Cartier schooling veteran Brad in mat wrestling!?
Brad's opponent on the mat appears to me to be another welcome return to BG East, namely former homoerotic wrestler of the month and babyface star of many wrestling fantasies of mine, Denny Cartier.  If it is Denny, he's let his hair grow out, which we know is indeed a sexy, curly mop. He's also sporting hot, hairy legs that look like they could snap Brad's spine in half, so yep, I think it's Denny! Brad's got a ton of experience to draw from, but facing Denny in his bread-and-butter setting on the BG East mats seems to me like a formula for Brad to discover that even though fans may be falling over themselves to celebrate his return, there's some merciless competition at BG East that would probably like nothing more than to send Brad back to the ranks of eternal jobbers. Come to think of it, there are probably a whole lot of those eager fans who'd like that, as well!

Cameraman Jonny Firestorm appears to make his presence known
during Brad's much-lauded return to the ring (this photo also posted
at BG East Yahoo Group)
So what have we learned, my friends? We've learned that beautiful Brad Rochelle, indeed, has made a return to face some of the prettiest new faces in the ring and most dangerous mat wrestlers that BG East has to offer. We've also learned that Brad continues to be smokin' hot, gorgeous as hell, and while some of his famous muscles may be a little smaller, I swear to God his ass and crotch have grown and grown finer with age. I can only imagine the story lines that take Brad on a journey into the ring with Chace LaChance, Attila Dynasty and Jonny Firestorm, and onto the mat with dangerous Denny Cartier. But another thing that we know: it isn't just my imagination. This is no Elvis sighting. Brad is back, and I can't wait (though it seems I'll have to) to get to see Brad work his magic on the boys that have come along since.

Thanks Kid Leopard, for the tantalizing pics and for setting our hearts pumping in anticipation! And welcome back, Brad!

Saturday, January 7, 2012

Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month

Some poor but worthy homoerotic wrestler is getting short changed this month. It's taken me a few days to recover from the New Year, leaving my designation of homoerotic wrestler of the month for the back burner until now. In order to give the worthiest wrestler every last minute on the throne this month, let me get right down to business. The very top tier of the wrestlers who brought me the most pleasure in December is populated by these extremely select hunks: that "fucking monkey" Jake Jenkins (as Kid Karisma referred to him), for his work against Joah Bindao in BG East's Fantasymen 34, as well as Austin Cooper for his ring work against former homoerotic wrestler of the month, Z-Man; Rex Braddock for every mouthwatering inch of his Strip Stakes 2 BG East debut. Austin Raines for a match that completely took me by surprise, demonstrating astonishing innovation and an iron will to dominate blue eyed terrier, Andy Hammer in BG East's The Great Outdoors. Rock Hard Wrestling's Ethan Andrews gets my nod for making me eat my words and delivering truly beautiful, arousing rookie bashing all over shocked jock Jason Kane. Thunder's Arena's Big Sexy makes me weak in the knees for showing up with a black eye, a new haircut, and looking harder than ever in Christmas Chaos 2011. Finally, Jobe Zander walks the fine line between camp and erotic pro wrestling as he works rookie Derek Fox's angry inches relentlessly in Can-Am's De-Crotchery 2.  The same line up could totally tip a different direction for me at another time, but for satiating what I was aching for in December, there's one standout muscle boy...

Rex's work in Strip Stakes 2 is phenomenal. As always, it takes two to tango, but Rex is unquestionably the lead in this dance. He lays down the strip stakes. Marc starts off seemingly literally entranced by the sight of his own gorgeous muscles, requiring Rex shove his handsome face into Marc's to break the spell. Rex loses a couple of items of gear along the way, but Rex's riding time is completely dominant.

I've noted Rex's awesome size and handsome face from his work with Thunder's, but his appearance in the BG East ring captivates me like never before. What a face! A homoerotic wrestler with a full beard is notable enough, but that space between Rex's front teeth and those movie star eye lashes are astonishingly adorable on such a big, beefy bruiser. From a distance, I'd quickly assess him as a muscle bound basher. His upper body is built for ripping opponents limb from limb, and good God, those legs blow my mind! I'm convinced this man squats Mac trucks to build that size. There's no other possible explanation. So, from a distance, Rex gives the overwhelming impression of an über-masculine bruiser with a clear focus on blunt-force trauma. But hot damn it all if, on closer inspection, you don't discover that disguised underneath that built-to-heel beard and all that muscle mass is a doe-eyed pretty boy that would make your heart melt and your cock rock hard to see first thing lying next to you when you wake up in the morning.

On another day, or perhaps a different month, Strip Stakes 2 might not have propelled Rex to the top of the ratings.  Both Rex and Marc wrestle in broad strokes. There's little subtlety.  This is a poundingly persistent marathon, not the adrenaline hit off a sprint. In fact, there are moments when I'd swear that the match slides into slow motion. Other than Marc getting racked naked across Rex's mile-wide shoulders, I don't remember either of them leaving their feet. But in December, I found myself craving exactly what Rex delivered, including gratuitous post-strip stakes naked victory bashing domination of his dark, bulglingly beautiful opponent.

Frankly, when watching matches with a cum shot chaser, I'm most often satiated long before the combatants reach orgasm. It's more a curiosity than staple fare for my wrestling kink tastes.  But last month, I found myself nursing a deep lust to watch muscle-Marc helpless in big Rex's sleeper. Rex pushed my buttons as he dropped the loser to his big, muscle butt and demanded a final emission-submission from the glassy-eyed, bulging muscleboy, who slowly obeyed his overpowering conqueror.

Rex's bicep remains relentlessly clamped across Marc's throat forever as the Italian strokes himself to life. Marc leans back, submissively, against the muscled torso propping him up from behind. Rex stares at Marc's cock as it swells, flushes red with excitement, and grows slick with precum. On command, at the moment Marc shoots his load onto his lower abdomen, he cries out plaintively his final verbal submission even as he slips into unconsciousness with Rex's grapefruit bicep pressed solidly against his carotid artery.

Rex dump his many-times-over loser of a muscleboy opponent in a heap, climbs out of the ring and leans back into the nearby couch to study the sight of his handiwork lying like so much wasted muscle in front of him. He's drained me, like Marc, several times over already. But I can't help myself but be aroused all over again as Rex breathes in the sweaty scent of his and Marc's stripped gear. After seeing Rex so frequently keeping the action straight at Thunder's, I admit that I gasped when I first saw him begin to toy with his cock there ringside. The doe-eyed muscleboy is a grower, gentlemen, and by the time he's done pushing himself over the edge soaking in the sight of Marc's defeated body in the ring, Rex proves that truly every inch of his muscle armored body is massive.

There's a moment of intimacy I experience watching Rex jack-off that I just don't often experience when I'm enjoying homoerotic wrestling or porn. I think it's the glimpse of that prettyboy face peering out from behind the Colt model beard and beefy bruiser body. Often I don't give a damn if the objects of my lust get off. The sight of cum, in and of itself, seldom does much to me. But I find myself aching to see Rex's face twist in the throes of a post-match orgasm. I'm inspired to another bolt of ecstasy at the sight of Rex inspired to a bolt of ecstasy at the sight of his crushed, humiliated, vulnerable opponent in the ring.

Regular readers know that I typically trend toward technicians, lean bodies and fast-paced action (which is why I'd give Austin Raines my second-place trophy this month, if I had a second-place trophy). But this time around, just like Marc Merino, I'm captured and helpless to do anything other than submit in ecstasy to my reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month: Rex Braddock.


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