Part of the examination of my wrestling kink is to evaluate my tastes. Taste interests me for a number of reasons, lately for the fact that my taste and my personal ethics do not strongly correlate. This used to trouble me more than it does now. Now the contradiction simply intrigues me.
For example, on the most general level, I abhor violence in real life and have not the least bit of interest in real bullies (e.g., Wall Street, multinational corporations, homophobes, white supremacists, the Bush White House), yet I'm erotically drawn to fights, even brutally realistic fights, and arrogant bastards with a cruel streak are my favorite guys to watch in the ring. I like horror movies, elaborately choreographed battles in action movies, and even YouTube vids of kids or drunks punching it out in parking lots. I like military men; I just hate the military, and, more to the point, war.
Also, as a gay man, I know I should be more catholic in my tastes. It's not fair, it's probably not even "right," by some people's estimates, that my tastes in men, while individual, often do parallel typical points of attraction for gay men. Fatties, fems, neurotics usually don't ring my chimes, however much I may like them on a personal level, however much I want them (and everyone) to find what they're looking for in life and love.
Others might use the word "prejudice" here; I don't. Taste and desire discriminate for me, despite my high principles, and I can't make my dick like what doesn't arouse it. (Even "worse," unlike most gay men today, I have little interest in establishing a LTR and marrying and starting a quasi-mainstream family. This is something I do have spasms of guilty feeling over, from time to time, given the tenor of the times.)
So in tracking my sexual desire I've created a short rubric of "types" I like to see wrestle, and have ranked them from "most likely to turn me on" to "least likely." To give this a pseudo-scientific code, I'd label myself as R-B-M-T in my wrestling tastes right now. "R" for regular guys, in the number one slot, then "B" for bodybuilders, then "M" for models, especially fitness and underwear models, and "T" for twinks.
Further, I am a "D" (for daddy), but daddy-fights have only an unpredictable appeal to me, and then, only if I am one of the daddies. By "daddy," by the way, I mean men over 35, with some balding and/or graying hair, with or without facial hair, but with a lot of history plus know-how or wisdom or guts that come with age and experience. (I'm interested in hearing readers' suggestions for other categories, and how they might rank them.) There are days, though, when I would rank myself as R-B-D-M or even R-D-B-M.
Almost always, in first place are regular guys, height/weight appropriate real men, without remarkable symmetry or tone, but who have a fire inside. These are the number one turn-ons in my world. They are athletic without being gods. They aren't hideous, but they don't turn heads in the bar either. In fact, the way they catch my attention is by fighting ... or stripping down and revealing a tough body that looks like it can take a punch or two. Often, they are in their 30s, ranging from 5'8" to 6'2".
Next are bodybuilders, thick men with hard round pecs and biceps, six-pack abs or firm convex stomachs, bulging thighs, broad shoulders. They shouldn't look steroidal. Overly developed bodies just look lumpy and ungainly to me. They must be agile enough to really fight, not just bounce off each other in the ring. Like the regular guys, they don't have to have cover-boy faces, so long as they've got a body that draws the eye. Narcissism, with an openness to body worship, is a plus.
Next are models. I like a beautiful face. I actually favor faces over bodies, usually, though, in the context of wrestling, a face without a rugged, taut body is like a ham sandwich without the meat. Like my friend Bard over at neverland, I like to see models dolled up as fighters, especially, of course, models with muscle. Often their doll-like faces make it painfully obvious that they have no real fight in them, but the pretense is attractive and usually hot.
Last are twinks. I like guys in their teens and early twenties too. Slim guys, even skinny, but not girly. I like tough little dudes who, as Chuck Palahniuk states in Fight Club, don't quit in a fight until they're burger. Even fairly soft, pale, emo-style dudes turn me on if they unexpectedly exhibit a yen for rumbles and skill in delivering and taking on pain. Unlike the other categories, I'm only interested in twink versus another twink. I can get a charge watching a regular guy taking on a model, say, but twinks need to stick with their own kind. I feel more or less the same about bodybuilders, come to think of it.
The fighters, in general, need to be well-matched. I just don't get into bodybuilder-twink squash jobs ... or, except on rare occasions, the David versus Goliath scenario.
So, egalitarian and liberal though I am, I'm still drawn to fighting, both real and staged (if well staged). Without regard to political correctness, I am drawn to whom I am drawn to, even while I recognize the injustice of sexual desire. Maybe I should be ashamed of myself, maybe I should count myself a hypocrite because my heart and my cock don't see eye to eye ... but I'm 56 ... I gave up that self-lacerating shit decades ago.