Oh Daddy

Powergunz.

It’s all there in the name, really. Big powerful strong arms. A sexy black pelt of fur on his torso and his legs. Thickly muscled legs.

Yeah, daddy.

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I mean, seriously. How fucking hot is he? He’s like the definition of what I call a hot daddy.

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I mean, woof.

The erotic aspects of wrestling have always been apparent to me, even as a callow youth unsure what the stirrings in his loins whenever he came across a professional wrestling broadcast actually meant; I didn’t understand the appeal of wrestling to me other than that somehow it was hard-wired into a gay sexuality that I wasn’t completely aware of–but those stirrings of lust and desire activated by seeing men like Bruno Sammartino or Mr. Olympia in the ring with their sweaty hairy muscles and high-waisted trunks as they punished their opponents and were punished in turn eventually, as puberty arrived, began to make more sense to me.

I have often been accused, throughout my adult life as an out gay man and as an out gay wrestler, of being a body fascist, of only being interested in men with lean muscular bodies. Nothing could be further than the truth, because the bears always reminded me of the professional wrestlers of my youth–and that is both sexy and arousing to me. And Powergunz has that look, you know, of the brutal heels of the 70’s–not ripped and defined, but thickly muscled and hairy and the facial hair and…you get the idea.

I’m a fan.

And I wasn’t in such bad shape myself, either, when the Boss finally scheduled the match I’d been wanting for so long.

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I like wearing white; I’ve also always thought it was kind of hot when heels wore gear in colors other than your standard heel fare. This is the only time I ever wore all white for the cameras; there was another match where I wore white squares with blue stripes on the sides–that’s the only unreleased match of mine left, I believe–but neither one of us was really in standard heel gear…which made it all the more fun, you know?

But what a fucking brute. Brute strength, animal magnetism, and the kind of charisma that makes my dick pay attention. I wanted to wrestle him, but more than anything else I wanted to feel out bodies against each other as we fought for control.

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Yeah, it’s a bit frustrating to be pinned down by someone bigger and stronger than you are, even if it’s hot.

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And I got some shots of my own in, as you can see.

What was even more fun is both of us pushed the other to extremes–kind of getting off on being slammed around or punched or forearm smashed.

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I think we both like to give and receive pain.

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Oh, yeah, it was a fucking great time.

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And there’s nothing like a bearhug from a big strong motherfucker, is there?

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That was a lot of fun, seriously.

Who’s Your Daddy

One of the things I like the most about BGEast is there’s not, really, a generic BGEast wrestler look; the Boss signs a broad spectrum of wrestlers, from the twink to the muscle boy to the muscle god to the athlete to the daddy-type. I never saw myself as a daddy-type, really; it was a surprise when my first match was released and I saw a lot of talk about me on-line about me as a ‘masked daddy.’

I just assumed it was the hairy body. There weren’t many of us at BGEast who were hairy, and the Boss always got annoyed with me whenever I showed up for a taping and had shaved my body hair off. I’ve always been hairy; I started growing body hair when I was eleven and it’s never stopped. From about age thirty-three to almost fifty at least once a month I shed my body hair, which was an enormous pain in the ass and was quite a relief when I finally stopped doing it once and for all. I still trim it down from time to time, but I can’t remember the last time I shaved my legs or torso. I was always told that the smoother you were the better and more distinct, more defined, your muscles looked; which was why bodybuilders are always hairless at competitions. I never really gave it a lot of thought. I thought smooth guys were sexy and I thought hairy guys were sexy.

Me in varying degrees of hirsuteness in past matches.

I’ve already commented on how gear, lighting and camera angles can make you look completely different in pictures taken on the same day.

Case in point:

I guess I don’t look that much different…other than the mask. But I always felt the higher on me the waistband of the trunks, the less lean I looked; it has to do with where my pelvic bones are and so forth and yes, I know I am really hard on myself.

Anyway, I always had a thing for the Brooklyn Bodywrecker; I regret to this day we never went in front of the cameras in the ring.

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Seriously, what isn’t there to like there?

I wanted to do a really nasty Dark Knights-type match with him, and let him take my mask. It never happened, but we did at least have a really hot private match.

(In an interesting aside, Bard’s blog has been doing a tournament of sorts to determine the top heel of gay-interest wrestling; yesterday was me and BBW, based on a fan vote. No surprise, I got clobbered…)

And of course, Powergunz is also one hot daddy.

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I don’t remember exactly when he landed on my radar; but I do know his match with Cole Cassidy was the first BGEast match of his I’d seen–it’s exceptional, by the way; definitely give it a look–and after that I knew I wanted to wrestle him. We’re about the same height, but his muscles were/are a lot thicker than mine (those arms!) and that chest hair…fuck me.

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I was pretty jazzed when the Boss set up a match for us. I mean, fuck me.

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And away we went… (to be continued)

Barefaced

I have to say, it’s very weird now to see pictures of myself on the BGEast page, or in the Arena, sans mask.

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Yeah, kind of a dumb expression on my face. But I have to say, modesty aside, I looked pretty damned good in white.

And yes, this is from an upcoming release. Matmen 27, to be exact, a match which Powergunz came out of semi-retirement to take me on. I’ve always had a thing for Powergunz. I think the first match of his I saw was him taking on Cole Cassidy in the ring–don’t @ me, I know he was around before that, but that was the first match of his that I actually owned and watched. He looked fucking amazing in that match, in his blue trunks.

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Hairy chested, thickly muscled, with the daddy haircut and facial hair…hell, yes, I wanted to wrestle him. I love me some muscle daddies.

And yeah, given my age and torso hair, I realize that I was a wrestling daddy for BGEast as well.

When I first started wrestling for BGEast, I was asked to list the guys I wanted to wrestle. Yes, Powergunz was on that list. And yes, it did happen. And it’s in the next catalogue.

ALthough it may have been more fun had I been masked….

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I Know What You Want to Do

There is a distinction between a jobber and a face in the world of wrestling.

There’s certainly some overlap, but jobbers rarely, if ever, win matches, and are also incapable of maintaining any offense they may generate during a match; they may not even launch an offensive against their opponent–and if they do, it generally doesn’t last long. Jobbers are there to be demolished, tortured, and beaten by an opponent who relishes dishing out pain and punishment and humiliation.

face, on the other hand, is a good looking well built stud with mad wrestling skills. He doesn’t stoop to rule breaking and/or cheating (unless provoked by the relentless rule breaking of their foe; it always plays as well-deserved and draws cheers from the crowd as payback). A face is a great wrestler who only loses due to the duplicity of their opponent; they are huge fan favorites. Probably the best example of a face is Kevin Von Erich, who was handsome and had a fantastic body.

The question, of course, is which category does my latest BGEast crush, Kirk Donahue, fall into?

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Very very good-looking, and that body!

Not to mention dat ass.

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He also has ring skills, though, so even though he seems to lose every match he’s involved in for the cameras, I would put him down as both.

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Z-Man is another one who straddles that line; he shows a lot of ability in his matches and even sometimes crossed the line into illegality–but only after being relentlessly beaten and victimized. He, too, is stunningly handsome and that body–Christ, that body.

So, I was very interested in seeing the two of them against each other in Babyface Brawl 2.

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That shot is a work of art, isn’t it?

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Kirk certainly brought out the beast I always knew was under the surface with Z-Man.

It’s a great match; Kirk even manages some offensive against the Z-Man…ring confidence is born out of success in the ring, and neither wrestler has had much along those lines over the years in the arena. Several times when Z-Man was poised to polish Kirk off for guard that killer instinct that is acquired through beatings isn’t as honed in either man as of yet.

And Kirk always suffers so beautifully.

Why is the suffering of the beautiful such a turn-on for so many of us? That is a topic for another day, I suppose.

 

As For You, Kirk Donahue

In all honesty, I’m not sure when precisely I became aware of Kirk Donahue.

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think it was when he was one of the nominees for Best Butt in the annual BGEast fan awards, and Bard commented on his blog that he didn’t quite understand why that was the case.

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I can see why, frankly. Bard later watched one of Kirk’s matches and ate his words and publicly apologized for questioning the bounty that is Kirk’s butt. (And in all seriousness, I know the eye is immediately drawn to the ass in the above picture. But look up at his shoulders, in the reflection caught by the mirror. That’s equally impressive.)

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His torso and arms are also quite delectable, and then there’s the bulge. It’s quite, as they say, ample.

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Yes, he is rather fine. Adorable, too, with that enormous, infectious boyish grin and those freckles. He even has them on his pecs and arms.

But like so many adorable boys before him, despite the sexy body and the handsome face, the fate of beautiful boys like Kirk Donahue at BGEast–well, he’s going to be fresh, bloody meat served up to the brutal beasts who drool at the site of such symmetrical perfection, thinking about the pain they can inflict, to see if he also is beautiful as he suffers….

(to be continued)

The Hero Takes a Fall

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When last we saw the hairy hunk Silver Eagle, he was getting his ass handed to him by the villainous muscle monster DR. MAGNIFICENT.

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In fact. things weren’t looking good at all for Silver Eagle at this point. And after the thrashing he received at the hands of Morgan Cruze, the prospect of any kind of offense–feeble or otherwise–seemed unlikely at this point. I was pretty certain all I was going to see was the Doc continuing to wipe the mats with Eagle–probably taking his mask and maybe even his trunks.

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And then, from out of nowhere, Eagle struck back.

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Oh, well done, Eagle! Those beatings apparently stoked a fire in his belly, because now that he’s seized control of the match, the rest is a bit different than the start!

(And still, look at Dr. M in this picture. Look at that body, how beautiful it is, how narrow the waist, how round and hard the ass, how deep the armpits. Magnificent indeed.)

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I gotta say, it was inspiring watching the Eagle turn the tables on the doc. And he kept it up, with the Doc trying, sometimes succesfully, sometimes not–to get back on top.

And there were still more twists to come.

Oh, yeah, I enjoyed this one.

Muscles Don’t A Wrestler Make

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That ass, man. Jesus.

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With no disrespect intended to Silver Eagle, who is most definitely a sexy man I’d love to tangle with (and whose mask I would happily add to my collection), Dr. Magnificent’s arrogant ring name is kind of apt: the body is pretty magnificent.

And that ass. Good Lord, that motherfucking ass.

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Vicious and nasty and physically beautiful, Dr. Magnificent clearly enjoys punishing his opponents almost as much as he likes showing off his own fantastic physique.

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How much humiliation will poor, hapless Silver Eagle suffer through? How much can he take? The doctor is in.

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And that bandoleer certainly has its uses.

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God damn, those muscles on the doctor.

How bad will things get for the Eagle?

cont.

Mask of the Enchanter

So, the most recent BGEast catalogue featured another entry in the Masked Mayhem series, and yet another without Cage Thunder. It’s always a little weird seeing that happen, to be honest, so here’s a photo of me in a mask to relieve your anxiety a little bit.

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Nice, right?

They never taped me doing a masked jockstrap match, which is a shame because I have a great ass.

Anyway, moving on, back to this latest Masked Mayhem, I noticed the reappearance of some masked wrestlers whose work I’ve enjoyed before, namely Silver Eagle and Gold Shaft (who takes on an unmasked Drake Marcos), and three new meat  wrestlers, Payback, the Assassin, and Dr. Magnificent.

Dr. Magnificent is, to be honest, pretty fucking magnificent.

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I mean, seriously.

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Those are some lovely muscles, that ass is exceptional, and he certainly knows how to fill up a pair of white trunks.

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The white, which usually is a signal to the audience/viewer that this wrestler is going to get his ass kicked, is a little deceptive in this case: for one thing that body is fucking amazing. The bandoleer and black highlights on the white ring gear also is a winking signal–no pushover here, this is a stud who knows what he’s doing and will do what he needs to do to win.

Plus, he’s wrestling Silver Eagle.

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Red, white and blue? Not a good sign. Plus, Silver Eagle’s only previous BGEast appearance, in Masked Mayhem 10, was a brutal ass-kicking by heel/sadist extraordinaire Morgan Cruze.

Don’t get me wrong, I think Silver Eagle is sexy as hell. I love the farmer’s tan, I love the hairy torso, and I love that he’s not overly muscled nor ripped to shreds. He looks athletic, like his body is fit for sports but he doesn’t need, for the sake of ego, to look like–well, Dr. Magnificent. The square cuts fit him perfectly with a nice emphasis on bulge and those nipples! Yeah, sexy. Very sorry our paths never crossed back in the day.

So, I started watching this match not really knowing what to expect, or how it would play out…which is always more fun.

(to be continued)

The Mask of the Faceless Heel

It’s funny how different a mask can make someone look; then again, the point of a mask is to hide or change one’s appearance. BGEast’s super hot stud heel The Enforcer always wore the black and yellow lightning bolt mask; I myself wore different colors and styles during my own masked reign of terror. Every picture of him, every video, I stared at the face, trying to get some idea of who he was, what he really looked like.

The body, of course, was always spectacular.

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He always wore black, but as terrific as that body is this was the most revealing set of trunks he ever wore.

And his match with Blueboy was probably one of the most classic, hottest, sexiest matches I’ve ever seen that had no nudity or erotic content at all.

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Seriously. Masked Mayhem 4. It also has my match with Boyd Hicks, which was also the first time I was naked on film. But the Blueboy-Enforcer match is a classic; an absolute classic.

Masked Man of My Dreams

Let’s talk, shall we, for a moment about the Enforcer.

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I mean, seriously.

The Enforcer–yeah. Sexy as hell, and as nasty a heel as have ever climbed through the ropes at BGEast. That body! That attitude! And strangely enough, as amazing as he looks, the sexiest thing to me in that picture is that vein running over the top of that bicep peak. For some reason, I just think is so fucking sexy. He always wore that same mask–and he has sexy eyes, too. I love the shape of the eye holes in that mask; the strong chin, the lips.

I always wanted to wrestle him; I’d picked him as one of the guys I wanted to unmask me.

The first time I noticed him, or was aware of him, was when he showed up to be one of the Boss’ enforcers in The Contract series; episode 4, to be exact.

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If you aren’t familiar with The Contract series, it’s an episodic tale of Brad Rochelle’s return to BGEast after a long absence. Brad–seriously, if you don’t know who Brad is, educate yourself immediately–was one of the biggest stars in the BGEast pantheon, and when he returned, he had demands…hence the contract of the title. It didn’t turn out well–at least, not at first–but The Contract series also introduced the audience to a lot of new talent…not the least of which was The Enforcer, who humbled and humiliated and battered Brad.

I was awed, and in lust.

He reminded me of one of my biggest crushes from the 1970’s and 1980’s days of pro wrestling, Mr. Olympia.

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I recently discovered a treasure trove of Mr. Olympia’s matches on Youtube, and have spent many a happy hour reacquainting myself with this stud.

This is one of my favorites: https://youtu.be/Wv07JT_cXsU

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He was a great heel–although he also turned a couple of times, going back and forth from heel to hero and back again. But a great body, a great worker, and sexy as fuck in the ring.

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So, I’ve been reacquainting myself lately not only with Mr. Olympia, but also The Enforcer.

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(to be continued)