Message from John Carter

This blog is rated R and is not appropriate for people under the age of 18. If you are offended by gay content, please move on and read some other blog.

Thursday, December 20, 2012

Dominance and Submission

I had lunch a while back with a wrestling friend of mine, and the conversation turned to dominance and submission.  I've always known that wrestling was akin to bondage and submission, but it had been a while since I'd sat and discussed the relationship between beating a guy on the mats, and making him submit to you--fully.

My friend is a very nice guy.  I want to get that out there first.  He does not look to hurt people, and he doesn't want to inflict pain.  Rather, what he was talking about was the game of dominance--the role-play (if you will) of one man dominating another.

As I write it, I think role-play is not the right term.  Yes, each individual does accept and fulfill a role, but that doesn't really do it service.  These are sexual roles that are assumed when one man shows--through his own physicality--that he is dominant over another man.

My friend was speaking specifically about a guy he'd met whom he was thinking of wrestling, and then dominating.  Forcing the guy (with his consent) to submit completely and totally.  Not just in sex, but in their entire relationship.  He was speaking of collaring the guy--a term that I admit I had heard, but which I knew very little about.

My friend is extremely well-built.  He has what I consider to be a great body.  But, I was wondering whether I would want to be dominated by him.  Would I like being forced to submit, to grovel, to open myself to another man on that level?

The answer, I think, is no. 

Although it's true that I enjoy being beaten in a wrestling match, and I like being told that I am weak, and that I can't win--I equally enjoy winning.  In fact, for me, personally, I need to have at least the illusion that I can win.  I love to wrestle a guy--even a bigger and stronger guy--and still have the impression that it's a fair fight.  I can loose in that instance, and be fully aroused and ready.

But, that's wrestling.  Would I like to totally dominate another guy? 

                                                        Me, as of December 16th

Here, I would say...maybe.  Here's my perfect scenario:

The guy would have to be blonde and smaller than me.  Maybe no more than 140 pounds.  He would need to be slim and slightly athletic.  I would want to wrestle him first, and really work him over.  Showing him again and again that he can't beat me, that I am truly his better.  Then, once we were exhausted and covered in sweat, I would take him and force him to do my will.

So, is there anyone out there who fits that description who would like to try this with me?  Lemme know. 

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Humiliating Your Opponent (Cont.)

Especially when you are a kid, you encounter guys who you think you should be able to pin.  These may be guys who are held in contempt by your friends.  They may be guys who are just a little odd, or are not really in very good shape.  You step out, in front of your friends, and you wrestle them.  But, then, inexplicably and humiliatingly, you are beaten. 

Held in a hold.  Unable to move.  Struggling feebly.  All the while your friends look on, laughing at you. 

I wrestled a guy like that once when I was a kid.  My friends were convinced that he was some sort of punk and that I should be able to take him so easily.  I could see that he was built.  He had that smooth, muscled look some guys have, and I wasn't so sure I could take him.  But, they were pushing me to go at it, so I did.

I thought his body looked a lot like the guy without the shirt shown above.  He stripped off his shirt to wrestle me, and I was both intimidated and turned on.  Still, I was game and we were soon rolling on the grass in the front yard while a ring a guys shouted around us.

He was good at getting around behind me.  Those were the days before MMA, so he wasn't trying to submit me.  He was trying to pin me.  The school-boy pin.  The ultimate end to any match in those days.  When an opponent sat on your chest and held your wrists to the ground, laughing in your face while you struggled to escape and buck him off.

I did not give in easily.  I turned and tried to force him back onto his back, but he was stronger, and from the slight smile on his face, I could see that he enjoyed messing with me. 

Although it was autumn, it was still warm, and we were soon covered in a sheen of sweat as we rolled in the grass.  I kept trying to gain an advantage over him, but he was so strong. Much more of an athlete than me.  My friends were calling me names.  Telling me that I was a loser and a punk.  And, I could feel my opponent drawing strength from that.  He believed them.  I was starting to believe them, too.

He worked me over until he was lying across my chest, pressing me into the ground.  He was laughing, and that pissed me off, but there was little that I could do.  We were chest-to-chest, his crotch pressed into mine, and his hands were clasped around my wrists.  I foolishly tried to force him off with just my arms, but I wasn't strong enough, and he was using his weight to hold me in place.

One of my friends, David, leaned down and looked me in the face while I was held there. 

"Get up," he commanded.  "Don't you let this fag beat you."

I summoned my strength and tried again, raising up into a bridge while I tried to roll him off me, but he pressed his chest down into mine and I collapsed again onto the ground.

I was beaten.

I gave.

My friends turned away and left me there on the grass, my opponent grinning above me. 

Monday, November 26, 2012

Humiliating Your Opponent

Sushil Kumar, Indian wrestler and Olympian.

Sometimes, when you wrestle a guy, you can just feel that he wants to be punished.

Some guys, they just shout it out.  Not in so many words.  Not in any words, quite frankly. But, their actions, their style of wrestling--everything says: "pin me and do your worst."

There was this guy I wrestled a few years back who just looked like a wrestler.  Broad shoulders.  Well-defined deltoids and biceps.  A pair of pecs that made my cock harden almost instantaneously.  When he stripped off his shirt, I was nodding in agreement with the wrestling gods.  Yeah, well-done.

He was my size, roughly.  I might have had a few pounds on him.  But, overall it was gonna be a pretty square match.  We came toward each other in just our jeans and stood, eye-to-eye for a bit, giving each other the once-over.

I admit it.

I was flexing my guns.  And so was he.  But we both knew that I had him in the sheer circumference category.

We locked up, and he instantly telegraphed that he was waiting to be taken.  You could tell.  He was tough, but he buckled easily, and I worked him over standing, throwing a blood choke on him, and then transitioning to a nelson.

Borrowed from Inner Jobber.

I liked the feel of his smooth back against my pecs, and I was so hard that I could have broken through my jeans if they'd been a little tighter.  He had some fight in him, though, and tried to break free only to have his arms pinned behind his back.

I worked him over to the bed and threw him, face-down.  Then I was on top, putting on a chicken wing, locking my legs around his waist, squeezing and tweaking his nips.  He wasn't just lying there.  He tried to break free, but I could tell his will wasn't in it--not entirely.  And the more I squeezed, the less he fought.

I stood up, rolled him over, and unbuttoned his jeans.  His cock showed through his briefs and I let my hand slide purposefully across his shaft as I moved to pull his jeans down and off.  I had my own off as quickly, and I had no underwear so my hard cock bobbed and throbbed above him.

He hadn't moved from where he lay on the mattress.  He was too intent on looking me over.  So I straddled him and ran my fingers just inside the waste band of his briefs.  My fingertips brushed his head and I felt the pre-cum.  He was enjoying this as much as me, so I pinned his arms above his head and began to lick his biceps and chest, letting my tongue linger on his nipples.  He liked that.  I could tell.  And I playfully bit down.  His back arched up and I knew I had him.

At that moment, he regained a sense of himself, and caught me unready.  He rolled me over and tried to pin my arms, but I fought free and using my legs held him in place and squeezed.  He groaned in pain and I pulled his head in close, working one arm around his neck until he was doubled over, his face against my cock.

I moved his head back and forth across the tip of my cock, and he began to lick.  Then, he took my cock in his mouth and I released the choke hold.  My legs relaxed as well, and he re-positioned himself so that he could work my shaft.  I caught a handful of his hair and took control of his head, forcing him down on me, and then back again.  With a free hand, he was working his own cock, and I knew he was enjoying himself.

A few more pics of recent crush Kumar. 

Saturday, November 17, 2012

The Wrestling Fraternity

In the homosexual pantheon, wrestlers have a special place.  We occupy a portion of the sexual spectrum that is actually a lot closer to the masculine end of the scale than the feminine.  We extoll the virtues of fitness and muscle, sweat and hard work.

In general, gay wrestlers recognize that they are a breed apart.  Akin to S&M - but not exactly into the bondage and collaring (although they can be). They are rather like the Cossacks of old, a wild, masculine fraternity of guys who live to be in the company of other men, who admire blue jeans and tight t-shirts, tank tops and leather boots.

And like any close-knit fraternity, wrestlers look after their own.  When a wrestler is in trouble, other wrestlers recognize that they have an obligation to offer a hand, to step up, to do whatever they can to help.

One of our fraternity, Battleboi from DC, got some bad news this past week.  He may have cancer.

Please, any of you guys out there who have wrestled Battleboi over the years, please take a moment to contact him and let him know how much we are all thinking about him.

And, have a safe and wrestle-full holiday.  I hope each of you gets to spend time with family and friends.  And, I hope you will hold off on that extra piece of pie, and hit the gym at least once over the weekend.

Remember, I may be coming to your town next year, and, dude--I want to wrestle.

Monday, November 12, 2012


A friend of mine once said: "All gay men just want to fuck themselves."

I wrestled a friend of mine a week or so ago, and we were lying on his bed talking.  I asked him to tell me his greatest wrestling fantasy.  He described a match between himself and...well, himself. 

Do I want to wrestle me

Well, let's put aside the science-fiction aspects of that question.  After all, if you truly met your doppelganger--an alternate other you, would you wrestle it/him?

Yeah.  Sure. 

My most intense wrestling fantasies have always revolved around wrestling someone who was my match in strength and skill.  Someone who I could wrestle, and never know for sure whether I could beat.  The issue would always be up in the air.  Too, I would like that person to share my sense of what is hot.  In the drawing above, the blonde guy has his dark-haired opponent in an immobilizing hold, while he works over his cock and balls.  That is undeniably one of my favorite scenarios.  I should be able to beat him, but I haven't and he's humiliating me.

As a result, I like guys who are my height and weight.  Nothing is hotter to me than being able to look a guy dead in the eyes and stand pec-to-pec with him (or cock-to-cock).  I like to lock hands and struggle, our muscles bulging and beads of sweat popping out on our foreheads.  I like the feel of his strength matched with mine and knowing that if I just find that will within myself, that I can beat him.  But will I?

I haven't had a lot of matches exactly like that.  Some, but not an overwhelming number.  Most of my matches are against guys who are taller, and stronger. 

In those cases, I love it when the guy gives me a break.  Let's me have the impression that I can beat him.  It's all a game, isn't it?  An attempt to recreate some primal scene from my dim, partially remembered past.  Am I remembering some hot, sweaty summer night long ago when I wrestled a friend?  I think I am, actually, and I guess I've spent my whole life looking for that same match.

I'm not done looking.

Saturday, November 10, 2012

Being There

A week ago, I was in Memphis, wrestling a hot guy.  This week, I'm...well...not. 

I suppose if I really hustled around, I could find someone to wrestle today, but this past week has been a real drag in terms of the domestic situation.  I won't go into all that.  That's not why you check in.  But, again, it's been no fun, and I find myself on a fall Saturday spending time with family and just generally trying to stay calm.

I am prone to bouts of introspection.  Now, I'm no genius.  Not even that smart.  But I can see that my fascination with wrestling has colored my life from start to finish.  And, to cut to the chase, I think in a good way.  It's been primarily positive.

I'm one of those guys who has fantasized about wrestling all my life.  In middle school, I remember lying on the couch in the family room and building these elaborate fantasies in my head about wrestling snakemen (how's that for Freudian?) and muscled neighbor boys. In high school, I wanted to see my friends in just a pair of jeans, and often after one beer too many, I would launch myself onto one of them and roll in the grass.  In my twenties, I actively tried to meet gay guys who wanted to wrestle.  But I was a complete failure.

All the guys I met were so feminine.  They hated sports, of any kind.  And, when I tried to get them to wrestle, they would be so passive and just give up. Or they would try and psycho-analyze me to figure out why I was fixated on wrestling--as opposed to just gay sex.

In some ways, that was the problem.  When I had "straight" gay sex (is that even the correct term?), I was dis-satisfied with the experience.  Even today, on the rare occasion when I meet a guy and just have sex with him, I don't really like it.  I find myself trying to imagine wrestling him, or someone else.  Even if the guy is built, I am off somewhere else in my head, wrestling him. 

Maybe that's why I find it so dis-satisfying.  I have to fantasize during sex to get off.  Well, I don't want to fantasize.  I want to LIVE it.  And, thankfully that is what I've been doing a lot lately.

That's also what I mean when I say that I think wrestling is a positive for me.  It allows me to actually participate in the sexual act.  To be completely and totally present.  That's an important point, I think.  What is the point of having sex with someone if you aren't really even in the room with them?  It's unfair to them, and it's slightly dishonest.

Yeah, I know, if every man who was not fully present with their sex partner were to leave, hardly anyone would have sex.  Most married guys would be gone in a second.  Probably most married women too.  But, for me, I need that connection. I crave it.  And when I find it, I feel good about myself.  Not only because I have actually experienced sex like it should be experienced (for me) but because I have been fully, and totally engaged with another person. 

And that, I think, is a rare gift.

So, I wrestle. 

On another note, I saw Fun. (yeah, the period is not a typo, the band's name ends in a period) on Saturday Night Live the other night, and I was really taken with the guitarist, Jack Atonoff.  Here's a pic of him:

You guessed it.  Jack and I have to wrestle.

Is he gay?

No, I don't think he is.  I think he's dating Lena Dunham, the girl who created and stars in HBO's Girls, but I don't care.  Jack and I need to square off.

I like the athlete/nurd type (is that me?)  And I think he's very hot.  He's figured into a few fantasies of mine this week.  So, out there?  Wanna do a Lou Reed and take a walk on the wild side?

How about you guys?  Are you gonna just sit there, or are you gonna take a walk on the wild side?  C'mon, let's WRESTLE!!!  

Monday, November 5, 2012

Gut Punching

I spent Saturday night with LeanmachineTN, a friend of mine from Nashville.  Lean is certainly that--lean.  He has rippling abs and a very slim torso.  But, he's also got a great upper body. 

In the picture above, that's me on top, raining down the blows on him.  I am wearing a pair of gloves with weighted shot in them.  If that was me taking those blows, I would have been yelling "stop!", but Leanmachine is a machine.  He took blow after blow and enjoyed it. 

Here I have him pinned to the wall as I continue to punish his abs. 

Now, I'm not a big gut punch type of guy.  I don't mind some shots, especially during a wrestling match, but I need to know a shot is coming so I can brace myself.  And I am not interested in being doubled over.  Leanmachine, however, can take a punch.  I was not holding back.  I did my best to make him give in to me, but I could not break him.  He took blow after blow and just smiled. 

I'm going to take some boxing lessons, I think, and really work on my punch.  That way, next time we meet, I will force him to give in to me.  

In case you are wondering, we did quite a bit of wrestling too.  Lean is pretty tough.  We oiled up and really went at it.  He and I are pretty evenly matched and it was a toss-up as to who would really dominate who. 

Thursday, November 1, 2012


The whole gain-weight/gain-mass thing has been going on for about three-and-a-half-months.  The lifting is going great.  I'm stronger.  Lifting heavier weights.

But the weight gain is tough.

I was stuck at 150 pounds for weeks.  Then when I changed my work outs, I started gaining weight again.  But, here's the weird thing: about a week ago I was at 154 (just a pound short of my goal).  I didn't eat right over Saturday and Sunday, and by Monday morning, I weighed 151 pounds.

I have to eat like a maniac all the time to maintain the weight, and frankly, I'm getting sick of it.

I'm getting to the point where eating is a chore.  Sometimes I joylessly shove food in my mouth and chew, even though I'm not hungry at all.  It sort of sucks.

So, I have decided to back off on the massive amounts of protein.  Maybe my body just isn't built to go to 155?

Here's my current work-out schedule:

Monday:  Squats
                Bench presses  (flat and then incline)
                Bench flys

Wednesday:  Squats
                      Shoulder presses/Military presses
                      Front raises
                      Deltoid raises

Friday:  Squats
              Bench presses (flat and incline)
              Bench flys

The next week I do shoulders on Monday and Friday.

When I work these exercises, I do five sets:

1.  Relatively light
2.  Heavier weight
3.  Heaviest possible
4.  Heaviest possible
5.  Light to exhaustion

Using this system, I've increased all my weights.  So, I'm getting stronger.  But, like I said, the whole weight-gain thing is exhausting.  I've started running again on Tuesday and Thursday mornings - and I still do 400 abs crunches every morning before work.

The problem is that I don't think I'm building the body I want.  As is typical with me (and a lot of smaller guys) when I pack on the protein, I also pack on the weight around my mid-section.   Running used to keep that off, but to gain weight I backed off on the running.  Now, I'm back at it and hoping to lean up some.  I will continue to work out hard and I will still attempt to eat lots of protein.  But I am not going to kill myself with the eat-six-times-a-day approach.  It's just too much for me.

Now, don't get the impression that I'm discouraged.  I'm not.  It's just that I think this is part of the process. I have to learn how to mold my body.  Eating is absolutely 90% of it, but I've got to figure out how to eat where I get the protein I need, but where I don't feel like I want to explode all the time.
Any suggestions?   


Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Grading My Wrestling Matches for 2012 (So far)

I was thinking the other day about all the guys I have wrestled this year, and I was wondering, how many of those matches I would consider to be "good."

By "good," I mean satisfying, fun, sexually exciting, or just generally worth it.  So, what I did was make a list of all the guys I've wrestled (some of which I have wrestled more than once this year) and gave each guy a score from 1 (bad) to 5 (great) in five categories:

  • Appearance
  • Attitude
  • Quality of the match
  • Was there sex?
  • Would I wrestle him again?

Now, please, don't write to me and ask for names, or for your score.  I will not provide that information.  This is intended not to pass judgment on individual wrestlers so much as to give me an idea of how my wrestling as gone over-all.  Obviously, you guys who have been reading my posts this year already know that I've had a few bad experiences.  But, conversely, you know that I've had some really great ones, too.

First of all, how many guys are we talking about?  I counted each guy once (even if I wrestled them more than once) and came up with twenty-three guys.  That seems like a pretty high number for a dope like me stranded in a small southern town.  I think I have gotten to wrestle that many guys because I've been willing to travel (to Chicago, St. Louis, and Memphis).  But, several guys have come to town to wrestle me - and I am very, very grateful for it.

Since a 5 represents the top score a guy can get in a category and there are five categories, a twenty-five is a perfect score.  And there were several perfect scores.  I count five of them.  These were guys who had great bodies (for me - based on my entirely subjective opinion), great attitudes, who either were a pretty even match for me or were willing to work with me to make it seem so, there was sex (of some sort) and I would willingly wrestle them again.

There were several great matches I had that suffered in their total scores because we did not have sex or because the guy might not be that great looking.  But, attitude, sex, and quality of wrestling easily make up for lack of a buff bod.

Then there were quite a few matches where we just didn't hit it off, or the wrestling was too one-sided.  There was one guy I wrestled this year who had the attitude and the look, but was just too strong for me and not willing to give me any slack at all.

Finally there were a few matches where there was no sex, the guy did not look good, he had a lousy attitude, and\or there was no sex.  Not many, but a few. 

Here's the general breakdown:

Score 20-25  12 matches  52%
          10-19  5 matches    22%
          6-9      2 matches    9%
          0-5      4 matches    17%

So, what am I (and you) to glean from this exercise?

The vast majority of the time (74%) the resulting match is good and well worth the effort in time and money.  Of those, the majority are great matches - the kind you want to re-live over and over.

Some matches are just okay (9%) and some (17%) are not very good.  That means that (very) roughly, 4 out of every 5 matches are at least passable.  Pretty good odds, actually.

And, one last thing: is it just me, or is my bicep getting bigger?

Sunday, October 21, 2012

College Wrestling

You guys already know that I am nuts about college wrestling.  And, with the falling leaves, College Wrestling is just around the corner. 

In fact, in early November, the All-star Tournament will take place (I think in Las Vegas).  It will feature a number of great match-ups, but none have my attention like the Kyle Dake/David Taylor match.

If you've read any of my past posts, you've read about how David Taylor was pinned last summer by his best friend Kyle Dake.  The picture above is from the start of that match.  Taylor is on the right in his snazzy matching singlet and custom-made wrestling shoes.  Dake is on the left looking like he just slipped on whatever singlet came to mind. 

Taylor is a great wrestling story.  Good-looking and extremely talented, he was called the "Baby-faced Assassin" in high school because he looked so young but so often pinned or tech falled his opponents.  Taylor won everything in high school.  Multiple state championships and many national championships.  But college has been tough on him.

In his first year of competition, Taylor won every single match he wrestled except his final match at the NCAAs against Bubba Jenkins of Arizona State.  Bubba, a former teammate of Taylor's, caught David and pinned him before a gasping crowd.  I was there, and it took me about five months to get over that.

Last year, Taylor again won every match - this time including his NCAA final.  But then, last summer, he wrestled his best friend at the Olympics Trials.  Again, Taylor was pinned.

Kyle Dake, the best friend in question, is also an amazing wrestler.  He has won three straight NCAA championships, each one at a different weight.  And, it looks like he and David will both be wrestling at 165 pounds this year.  So, I expect to see them wrestle not only at the All-star Tournament, but at the Southern Scuffle, and at the NCAAs.  David has to find a way to battle back against Dake's greater strength and unbelievable flexibility.  Or, it may wind up with David, on his back, his blond best friend flexing and posing over him. 

Either way, I will be there to see it.  And I can't wait.

In the meantime, I intend to recreate my own college wrestling matches with as many guys as possible.  Are you gonna be one of them?  I'm weighing in at 154 this morning.  Getting bigger every week.  And I'm ready to get hot, and sweaty and exhausted with you on the mats.  Now.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Another Wrestling Week?

It's been about thirteen weeks since I started working out and eating differently.  I started at 142 pounds and am now at 152 pounds.  My goal is 155 pounds, so I'm getting close. 

Honestly, sometimes I can't tell any difference, but I am lifting far heavier weights than I was when I started.  So, I'm getting stronger. 

Last week was sort of a mini-Wrestling Week.  I wrestled two guys - one I told you about in my last two posts.  The other I wrestled last Sunday.  He lives in my home town, and I met him off Meetfighters (not Globalfight).  He lives fairly close to me and has his own home - two very big pluses.  He's not in outstanding shape, but he's thin and a really nice guy.  I liked him.

I'm not sure if it was just because it was our first time, but we did not wrestle very hard.  It was mainly just rolling around.  Still, I had a good time and I will go back and wrestle with him again.

I also, sort of, messed around with a guy whom I've been seeing off-and-on for the last year or so.  He is a little younger than me, in very good shape, and extremely enthusiastic in bed.  I've told him about my interest in wrestling, and he has been very keen to hear more and to even participate. 

He even bought a singlet which he modeled for me the other day.  He certainly fills it out, and you should see what he looks like from behind.  Not only does he have a great ass, but he has the most magnificent shoulders.  He's shorter than me, but his shoulders are broad and well-defined with deep cuts. 

I haven't wrestled him yet,  but I'm working on getting up my nerve to do so.  I think he's quite a bit stronger than me, so if I do wrestle him, he'll probably over-power me in no time flat. 

I'm not exactly sure why I'm so reticent to wrestle this guy.  He's handsome and nicely built.  He likes me and is so willing to accommodate me and my likes.  I think the issue is that I suspect that he will just pin me right off and I won't have a chance with him.  I'm not sure how I'll like that.  I generally don't like to just be beaten.  I like to at least have the illusion that I can hold my own with a guy.  I'm just not sure he'll understand that.

So, I haven't wrestled him.  Not yet.  But I am thinking about it.


Friday, October 12, 2012

The Rest of My Story

I arrived at his house on an absolutely perfect fall afternoon.  He lived in a beautiful, older neighborhood in town, and the houses were decorated for Halloween with carved jack-o-lanterns and fake spider-webs.   He greeted me at the door wearing a tight tank that showed off his well-sculpted shoulders and arms.  He was smiling, but I detected a slight nervousness.

We talked for a few minutes, and then gathered our stuff and headed out.  We had decided that we would oil wrestle in an abandoned office that his partner used.  The office was a short drive away, and soon we were standing in a wide-open space with thick carpet and no furniture.  We opened the drop cloth I'd brought and spread it on the floor, and we advanced toward each other. We were wearing nothing but gym shorts at that point, and we spent a few minutes exploring each others bodies.  He was taller than me by about four inches, and wider, too. He had such a well-developed chest--slightly hairy--and I couldn't help but run my hands over it.

Then, we stripped and began to apply the oil to each others bodies. He went first, working the oil into my chest and shoulders, down each arm, and then, finally, up and down each leg.  As he worked in the oil on my thighs, he would carefully "slip" and message my hard cock, working it just enough to arouse me, and then, playfully, moving back to my legs.  I took the oil from him, and did the same.

He had never wrestled before and was clearly nervous about trying, but I showed him a few basics - one of which - the front headlock - seemed to startle him.  I don't think it had occurred to him that I might apply that sort of physical pressure.  But he recovered himself and we began to grapple.

As I said, he was bigger than me.  He out weighed me by seventy pounds.  But the oil tends to even things out, and even when he'd pin me to the floor, I could work out from beneath him and climb onto his--admittedly broad--back.  I don't think he'd ever had someone put him in a full nelson before.  But his shoulders were so huge and the oil so slick, that even that momentary setback did not stop him.  He escaped and turned into me, trapping me beneath his massive, hairy chest.

It was playful wrestling.  Competitive in only a covert sort of way.  Even as we locked hands and tried to force each other to submit, we hesitated to apply full pressure, but, then again, I saw the look on his face.  The desire to try himself against me.  He got harder.

I got my legs up around his waist and began to apply pressure.  Again, this was slightly novel for him, and he was unsure how to respond, considering the fact that our hands were still locked.  He laughed, a nervous, funny laugh, and shifted slightly.  The pressure was getting to him, and then he released my hands and I sat up and pushed him over onto his back.

I straddled him and began to work him over, letting my hands stray over his body, working is cock, feeling his ass, then lightly working his nips. That did it.  He liked pec and nip torture.  I went in for the kill, biting and licking.  He moaned, and arched his back.  Then, almost before I understood what was happening, he shoot a salvo across us.  I joined him, jacking myself off.

Will we wrestle again?  I doubt it.  I got the impression that he was in this just to see what it was like.  His curiosity had been slaked and now he would move on.  But, then again, I was wrong about my take on him at the gym.  Perhaps we will wrestle again?


Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Meeting at the Gym

Another pic of Pablo Papovitch. 

Time for a story.

I agreed to meet him at the gym.  I really wasn't sure exactly what he looked like.  I'd seen several photos of him that he'd sent to me online, but he looked markedly different from one picture to another.  I assumed that some were older and some were more recent.  Either way, he appeared to be very well-built.  Around two hundred-and-twenty pounds, and maybe five nine. 

I am considerably smaller than him.  At five seven and one-fifty, I am almost seventy pounds lighter than him.  We did not have plans to wrestle--according to what he'd told me, he'd never wrestled.  But we were going to work out together.  I anticipated that he would be able to lift much higher weights than me.

I arrived on time, and saw him sitting in the lobby of the gym, dressed in jeans and a pressed red-and-white shirt.  He was handsome, with a shaved head and a short beard.  He had a nice smile, and we shook hands while surreptitiously giving each other the once over.  I got the distinct impression that he was not too impressed with me.

We went downstairs and got undressed.  He was pretty fucking huge, size-wise.  He was built close to the ground, stocky, with a slightly hairy chest.  He talked easily, making small talk.  We walked up to the weight room.

We had agreed earlier that we would work on arms.  I think he wanted to see how big my biceps would get engorged with blood from a good work out.  We set to it, doing bicep curls with a straight bar.  As I expected, I could not match him weight-wise.  I just could not lift as much with a straight bar as he could.  But, then again, I rarely used the straight bar.  He plugged in his iPhone and put in some earbuds, which sort of put me off.  I figured he didn't want to talk much.

And he didn't.

We worked biceps, and then I led him to the tricep bar.  I like to work with the heaviest weight I can manage over several sets, and then work the weight rack downward.  I was lifting 120.  He was lifting 140.  After several sets, we started down, five reps at a time.  I went first.  120, 110, 100, 90, 80, 70 until my triceps were screaming.  He went next, and he was covered in sweat by the time he was done.

We then went back to bicep work, doing several different types of exercises.

Then, he pulled out the earbuds and asked if I'd like to go sit in the sauna for a bit.  I said "sure."

In the sauna, we were alone, and we finally began to talk.  He asked me a lot of questions about wrestling, and said that he thought he'd like to try it.  When I explained oil wrestling, he seemed doubly interested.

I was feeling weirdly out of my depth.  He was such a big guy and so muscular, that I felt like a little kid around him.  After about ten minutes in the sauna, we sat out by the whirlpool, in front of a huge mirror.  He looked up and smiled.

"Dude, you look so hot," he said.

I was struck by the fact that, yeah, I looked okay.  So did he.  We were both leaning back against the cool wall, our arms bulging.  I thought how I'd love to try and wrestle him, try to move him around.  He was smiling.

After a shower, we shook hands and I headed back to work.  I decided that I would text him the next day.  Give him some time to think about things.  But, then, he texted me.  He started asking me more questions about wrestling.  Then, he asked me to come over to his house and wrestle with him.

So, here I am, working my way through the afternoon.  As soon as I get off work, I will head to his place and we will wrestle.  I'm sure he will be able to pin me just from sheer size, but I am going to coach him in how to wrestle with a smaller guy.  I think it's going to be fun.

As an extra bonus, here's another Pablo Papovitch video.  In this one, he gets beat, but it's fun watching him wrestle Andre Galvao.  They are both such studs!

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Who is in my Fantasy Tonight?

Have you guys ever heard of Pablo Papovitch?  He's a grappler who is just about the best looking guy I've seen in quite some time.  Take a look at that pic above.  Pablo is one hot guy.  Watch the video below for a good view of what he looks like on the mats.

Yeah, he'd be tough, but I would strip off my shirt and hit the mats with him, anytime.  Ya hear that Pablo?  Let's rumble.

Okay, did you guys hear about Orlando Cruz, the first openly gay boxer?  Orlando, dude, you are my hero.  Knock 'em dead!

And, Orlando,  if you ever wanna do a little mat wrestling, just to loosen you up, let me know.  I'm your man.

And another note: met up with my friend from Scruff.  We worked out at the gym together and - lo and behold - we are going to wrestle tomorrow night.  He's never wrestled before, so I'm gonna break him in.  Of course, he's 5'11' and 220 pounds, so he might just beat the crap outta me.  But he seems like a really nice guy and I'm gonna show him how a big guy wrestles with a small guy.

Best of all: he lives just up the road from me.

And, I've got another match on Sunday with another guy here in town.  My God, it's raining men...or wrestlers, anyway.

Monday, October 8, 2012

New Matches

It's funny how these things seem to go in waves.  Long stretches where no one wants to wrestle and I begin to despair that I will never get to wrestle again (I'm easily discouraged, aren't I?) and then, wrestlers, wrestlers, wrestlers.

I'm in the middle of a bit of a wave of wrestling right now.  Wrestling Week was only a few weeks back (and man, was that fun), and now I've got several matches lined up over the next few weeks.

I don't use that much.  The interface is so damned small on my iphone that I feel like I'm going blind half the time.  But I do get challenges off that site from time to time.  One that has really been nice is a guy from out in California that I've gotten to know through emails and phone calls.  He seems like a great guy--my size--and a real stud.  We are planning on meeting up in Phoenix to wrestle in January. 

Closer in, I'm headed back to Memphis in the next few weeks to wrestle with my friend from Nashville.  He was such a blast during Wrestling Week, and I have to admit to having a little bit of a crush on him and his out-standing abs.  This time around, we're gonna spend the whole evening just the two of us wrestling.  Yes, there will be oil.  And I will take pictures this time.  I didn't take many of him last time. 

I heard today from a guy on Meetfighters - got a challenge - and I just assumed it would be from someone in England or Spain.  Seems like most of the guys I hear from on that site are over-seas.  But...what the hell?  This guy is my size (roughly) and lives here in my town!  I was shocked.  Of course, I wrote him back, and (hopefully) we will meet up and see if we wanna wrestle.  It would be cool to have someone here in town who liked to wrestle.  So, I hope this works out.

Then, there is one hold-over from Scruff, the site I was on briefly a few weeks past.  I met a guy on that site who is very well-built.  Quite a bit bigger than me.  But he is interested in wrestling.  I am going to work out with him and we'll see if anything comes of it.  I have this idea that he'll meet me, realize that I'm about forty pounds lighter than him, and turn around and leave.   I don't know why I think that, but I do.  I may be wrong, but I think the criteria people use on a site like Scruff is a little different than what we use on Meetfighters or Globalfights.  We're looking for someone who would be fun to wrestle.  I think on Scruff the criteria skews more toward dating.  I'm not the pretty type. 

So, things are cool these days.  The weather is nice and autumnal.  I've carved a pumpkin.  Gotta rake some leaves.  I've dug out my hoodies and long-sleeve wrestling shirts.  As always, it's time to wrestle!!!

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Internet Infatuation

Okay, I've been working to gain mass since about July 19th, and here I am - October 3rd, and I weigh 151 pounds.  Still four pounds short of my goal of 155.

The good news is that I am lifting heavier weights than I have lifted in twenty years.  So, I'm stronger than I have been.  But, boy, gaining that extra weight is tough.  I think the problem (again) is that I am lifting five days a week, but not taking in enough calories.  I'm not sure what I'm going to do to get more. 

*          *           *

I want to talk a bit about a phenomenon that I have observed, and experienced, a few times over the last few weeks.  I will call it Internet Infatuation--the rush of emotion bordering on love--that one experiences when corresponding with someone on the Internet.

A few weeks ago, I mentioned that I had signed up for an online service called Scruff.  It's an app you download to your phone or iPad and it let's you know what guys are in close proximity. I put a profile out there, mentioned that I was looking for wrestling or work out buddies.  But I got only a few hits from guys who wanted to wrestle or work out.  And none of those panned out.

But I did get a hit from this kid who did not have a profile picture.  He wrote to me, and I wrote back saying something like "Hey."  He then proceeded to write me, often.  I mean, several times a day.  These messages are basically text messages sent through Scruff's text service, and I got a lot of them.  The guy wanted to see more pictures of me.  Wanted to know what I liked and didn't like.  Wanted to know where I worked.  I did not answer that last question.

I tried to be nice.  Which was dumb.  I told the kid that I would not meet him unless I saw a pic first.  Instead of sending me a pic, he wanted to know if I would ever date someone who wasn't in great shape.  Then he told me how he walked sometimes.  I stopped writing back to him.  He continued to write me - becoming angrier and angrier that I was not responding.  So I blocked him.

That sort of thing usually doesn't happen with wrestlers.  I think you are more prone to see that behavior from general dating sites.  (I am no longer on Scruff.)  But I experienced it this past week on Globalfight.  A guy, who lives a long way from me, wrote to me and kiddingly challenged me to a match.  He was cute, so I wrote back and bantered with him a bit.  This went on for a day or so with us exchanging emails in which we described how a match would go between us.

Then, he asked me if I would consider being his boyfriend.  Again, this guy is around a thousand miles away from me.  But, you know what?  I wanted to say "yes."  I had gotten caught up in the give-and-take of writing.  You know how these email things can be.  Emotions can escalate and before you know it, you actually believe that something real is happening.

But, it's not.  Not really.

We are so isolated in our tiny islands of life.  Especially wrestlers who are gay.  We are sprinkled here and there across the globe, and even when concentrated in a single geographic area, we find reasons to avoid the wrestlers who are close.  These internet infatuations give us a momentary glimpse into another person's life and give us hope that we can actually live in a world where wrestling a hot guy is part of our everyday existence.  It's tempting.  So, damned tempting, to give in to these impulses.

But, you know what?  I am going to act rather than just email or text.  If a guy is really someone I'd like to wrestle, and he is interested (seriously) in wrestling, I am going to muster the financial and temporal resources to go and meet him.

So, next year:


Bank on it dudes.  If you live in one of these cities - or in close proximity to one of these cities - and you want to wrestle, lemme know.  I'm coming your way in 2013.  But, you better be in shape.  I plan on being ripped up and ready to rumble.    

Sunday, September 30, 2012

Another day older...

I want to take a moment and thank everyone who has written to me and wished me a happy birthday.  I really appreciate the birthday wishes.  I just wish I could spend my birthday wrestling with all my wrestling buddies.  But I can't.  And I shouldn't complain. I've gotten to wrestle a lot in the last week.  And it was great.

I am 54 in about four days.  I suppose that in the context of the gay life, I should be somewhat depressed.  But you know what?  I'm not.  I feel pretty damned good.  For an old coot I'm working out like crazy, eating right, and getting to wrestle a lot of really hot guys.

And guess what?

I'm gonna do it again next year!

Here we are, smack dab in the middle of the twenty-first century.  And a lot of the rubrics that ruled our lives in the last century are falling away.  Fear.  Self-consciousness.  Failure to act.  All the little character flaws that we've allowed to rule our lives, to govern our actions.  To keep us locked up in our homes and our heads, aching to come to gripes with our fellow men. 

How many years did I spend THINKING about wrestling?  How many hours did I waste wishing I could meet someone who thought like I did, who wanted to strip down to barely anything (or nothing!) and wanted to test themselves against another guy?  Who wanted to feel their hard cock pressing against their jeans in anticipation of the struggle, the domination, the humiliation of wrestling?  How many nights did I go to sleep dreaming of big, rounded biceps and well-defined pecs?  How many times did I  wonder how it would feel to be caught between the massive thighs of some stud?

Well, I am done with wishing and thinking and hoping.  I am DOING.  And that, my friends, is my advice to you.  Now, before another day passes, resolve that you will get in slightly better shape, that you will reach out and talk to another guy.  That you won't let your life slip away without experiencing the very thing that most animates you.

Do it, man.  NOW!!!

It's my birthday.  And you know what I wish?  That you were not so lonely.  That you had friends who wanted to wrestle you.  That you experienced the awesome rush of having another guy chest-to-chest with you, his hard cock pressing on you, your hands on his firm ass.  That's what I wish - for you--to have a good next year.

But it won't happen unless you try.  You have to meet me half-way.  Resolve to get more exercise.  Resolve to be nice and patient with your internet friends.  Resolve to understand when you are turned down, and resolve to not let it bother you.  Resolve to be gracious and available, to be open and ready to accommodate the interests of others.  Resolve to be a good wrestling friend and partner.  Resolve to re-vamp that profile pic that shows you laying down or fully clothed.  Resolve to sell yourself!  In short, resolve to be a part of this community.  It's great.  I guarantee you.  The rewards are infinite.

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Milestone: 100,000 Wrestlers

We have hit a real milestone today: 100,000 hits against my bog.  That number really stuns me.  I remember wondering if I would ever hit 1,000!  Let me just say "thanks" to all my wrestling buddies and readers out there.  I promise to keep spending way too much time pondering the greater meanings inherent in stripping down and wrestling our fellow men.  I promise to continue to tell stories from my past, and to keep you up-to-date on matches which are coming up.   I promise to fantasize about guys I'll never meet and certainly never wrestle.  And I promise to continue to try and become a better member of the gay wrestling community. 


Monday, September 24, 2012


When a match begins between two guys, probably the most important moment is that initial moment when you lock up for the first time.  That is the instant when you find whether it's going to be a tough match or an easy match. Whether you are going to have to try and use skill, rather than strength, or you are going to be able to over-power your opponent.

If you will recall, I wrote a post a few weeks back about being tough.  I think, depending on the guy I wrestled this past week, that I either embraced those ideals or I forgot entirely about them.  For instance, when I wrestled my friend from DC (and I use the term "wrestled" pretty broadly here) I did not show a lot of aggression. 

Why?  I think I sort of figured that I could not beat him.  There was something about him that told me that a real match between the two of us would not have ended well for me.  And, I think I was right.  He was quite strong - and it turned out - had wrestled in college.  A major college.  A major Division I college.  Okay, maybe that had been a few years ago.  But he was a strong guy.

Now, when I wrestled my buddy from Nashville, and the guy from Atlanta, --and even the guy from San Francisco, I didn't hold back.  For some reason I intuited that these would be good matches.  That we would be relatively well-matched.  Atlanta turned out to be a lot stronger than he looked, but he was a nice guy who liked give-and-take.  I could tell that it was going to be fun, no matter what.

My Nashville friend, in particular, was extremely hot, and fun to wrestle.  God, I enjoyed rolling with that guy.  He was such fun. Easy-going, and masculine.  Strong, but not over-poweringly so.  The same goes for San Francisco.  He had a hot body and was strong enough to give me a hard time, but I could hold my own with him.

Even wrestling Colorado and St. Louis was no big deal for me.  Both of those guys are bigger than me, but I had no problem just jumping in and doing my best.  I think I didn't use many moves with Colorado, which I regret (it was like my mind went blank) but against St. Louis, I did okay.  Of course, both those guys let me do ok. 

Now, I'm not saying that DC wasn't a nice guy. Or wasn't fun to wrestle.  I think it was more me than him.  Maybe it's because it was so late in the week and I was sort of worn out. I mean, that's my excuse.  But I still think that even fresh, that I could not have controlled him.  I just don't see it.  Do I want to wrestle him again?  Yes, I do, but I don't think I would ever wrestle him competitively.  I don't think that would be a good idea.  Dude, if you're reading this: sorry.  I think you're a little out of my league.

But, having displayed my wimp flag, let me also say that I am not giving up.  I'm still working like crazy to get bigger.  And I will still work on my attitude to try and be a tougher opponent.  I don't mean that I want to be an ass-hole, I just mean that I want to be a better wrestler.  Someone other guys want to wrestle.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Wrestling Week Part III

                                  My San Francisco opponent prepares for the oil match

Well, Wrestling Week has come to a close and I got to wrestle six different guys.  What do I have to show for my efforts?  An exhausted libido, for one.  Another is a sore neck.  Bruises on my feet, legs, and chest.  And…a general sense of well-being.

Yeah, I’m pretty happy.

It was fun.

                                                        A comparison of backs.  Me, top.

The week ended off with an extended sex-match against a guy from San Francisco.  He’s someone I’ve wanted to meet for a long time, and I am happy to report that our meeting was well worth the effort (on both our accounts).  There was bed wrestling.  There was oil wrestling.  There was cock-fighting.  Really, just about everything I could have hoped for.

I also got to wrestle my friend from Washington DC who has been trying to come to my town for about five years.  We’ve had so many things get in the way: earthquakes, tornados, sick moms, you-name-it.  I sort of expected the apocalypse this time.  But instead, we actually met.  He was nice, and had a great build…and I was just about worn out from wrestling all week.   We still had a good time, although we didn’t wrestle a whole lot.  Probably just as well.  I think he’s a lot stronger than me.  I doubt I could have taken him anyway.

                                   My San Francisco opponent gets ready to arm wrestle me

So, here I sit, a Sunday night.  Tire and sore.  When will I wrestle again?  I don’t know. 

*    *     *

Before I sign off on all this, I want to discuss a subject that has been on my mind.  I have to be careful about the way I approach this, because it’s something that can freak a lot of people out.  But I think this is on my mind because of the fact that I have been on this website called Scruff the last week, and it’s sort of depressing.

Scruff is sort of a gay-dating site for more masculine guys.  I’ve had a lot of text messages over the last week, but primarily the guys that have written to me have fallen into two camps: those that just want to text and those that want me to come over RIGHT NOW!!!

I wrote on my profile that I was into wrestling, but no one actually reads profiles. They react to the pics that are posted.  I guess they like mine, cause I get a lot of texts like this:  “Hey sexy.” 

Anyway, that sort of thing is NOT what I am interested in pursuing.

And, it got me to thinking about the fact that most of the guys that I have met through wrestling are people that I wouldn’t mind seeing again.  That’s the point I am trying to get to (in such a round-about sort of way).  I like wrestlers.

Most average gay guys are not much fun to be around.  I don’t mean to sound rude, but I don’t like feminine guys.  I don’t like to discuss shoes or “Sex and the City.”  I don’t like people who try to draw attention to themselves or want to make a scene.

I like regular guys.  Flannel shirts, and work boots.  T-shirts and baseball caps.  Button-down oxfords and dented hubcaps.  (My God, it sounds like a country song.)

And I find that a lot of the guys that I encounter on non-wrestling sites are not really like that.  Some are, but if they are, they always live in LA or deep in the green recesses of the Adirondacks.  The guys that I have met through wrestling are, about 65% of the time, guys that I would like to see again.  They are guys that I like to hang with, to drink beer with, to talk with.  They are primarily (that’s right – not all of them) big armed and regular.  And, let me say it again, I like them.

I know a lot of guys want to wrestle someone and mark them off their bucket list.  Wrestled him? Yeah. Check.  Next. 

I’m not really like that.  I tend to want to stay in touch.  To talk.  To be friends.  I LIKE a lot of these guys and I want to be around them.  And that’s where it gets freaky.  No one in the internet age likes to think that someone likes them.  Then it’s scary.  They might show up at work or at their sister’s wedding.  Well, I’m not like that.  I’m not going any where.  I have a life.  I have responsibilities to people who need me.  And, I intend to keep those responsibilities.

But I do sometimes wish I could see my wrestling friends more often.  I can’t help it.  This is a life that I like.  These are the types of people whose company I crave.  They are, in fact, the people who have occupied my fantasies since I was able to fantasize about anything sexual.  So, I suppose it’s natural that I should want to be around them.

Tonight, though, as cooler autumn air filters into the south and drives the humidity toward the gulf.  As the neighbor’s dog barks and the street lights flicker and come on, I’m thinking about all those guys and wondering where they are tonight.  I’m wondering what occupies their minds.  And, in some small way….I’m hoping that I occupy their fantasies, too.

Friday, September 21, 2012

Wrestling Week - Part II

So Wrestling Week continues to roll on, and things have been going great.  Wednesday night I wrestled the Grizz from St. Louis.  Now Grizz always gets to town sort of late.  This time it was around 7:00.  That may not sound late to you guys, but I have a disabled niece living with me that has to be gotten up early and taken to school.  So, I can't stay out late wrestling. 

But, I arrived at the Grizz's hotel room which he promptly turned into an arena, and we went at it.  That was some of the most sustained and intense wrestling I've done in a while.  Grizz isn't much on erotic, so it was real competition and fun.  He's bigger than me, but knows how to roll with a smaller guy.

Of course, Grizz has lost some weight and is looking good.  I was surprised when I ran into him in the lobby.  He's my height and from behind, he looks so little.  But front on - he's still a big tough guy.

The photos I've posted show me as of this morning (September 21st).  If you look carefully, you can see the bruises that I've accumulated so far this week.  Nothing bad.  Just superficial black marks.

These singlet pics show me preparing to battle wrestlesweat, from San Fransisco.  He and I are all set up for an epic wrestling eroto-match this afternoon and evening.  I'm excited.  I've always admired his profile pics and can't wait to test myself against him in some hard-core oil wrestling.  I will take pictures.  I promise.

Otherwise, it's been an odd week.  Some of you may have seen that my pictures (with Mr. Colorado) were featured on the homepage at  That was nice, and also kind of a problem.  I got around 200 emails as a result of that.  I feel obligated to answer each one, so that has occupied a fair amount of my time this week. 

On another front, I tried out a new website called Scruff.  It's an app that you load to your iPhone and/or iPad.  It's basically a gay dating/hook-up site but it is geared towards more masculine guys. 

I posted a profile and was really upfront about wanting to wrestle.  I have at least three guys who've expressed an interest in wrestling.  Now, will any of these guys actually go through with it?  One is really enthusiastic.  Another has set up a gym date with me.  And another says he is, but I'm not sure.

You might try Scruff.  It's okay, although I have had quite a few guys write to me that did not read the profile.  When I mentioned wrestling, they did not respond back.  It's just as well.  Their humiliation would have been complete at my hands.  [Insert evil laughter...]

Just kidding.  I'll let you know how it goes with wrestlesweat.  And with my DC friend who I am all set to meet tomorrow morning. 

Wrestling Week continues...!!!