I am serious about the nondescript title. Once or twice I have wondered whether my whole wrestling fetish is just, when boiled down to its essence, an obsession with the word "wrestling." Really, all it takes is for me to hear the word spoken (or one of its variants: "wrestle," "wrestles," "wrestled," "wrestler") or to see it in print, and, out of nowhere, a chubby starts to bloom, as expectant and conditioned to a predictable response as one of Pavlov's dogs.
How else to account, too, for the expansiveness of my interest in wrestling? I like both pro wrestling and submission wrestling, both freestyle and Greco-Roman, both nude erotic wrestling and by-the-rules wrestling in gear (in fact, two men in business suits wrestling can get a rise out of me, too). Oil wrestling, mud wrestling, sex wrestling, pillow fights, king of the mountain, real knockdown and drag-out fights, they all have their appeal. I even like women's wrestling and mixed martial arts, which, some would argue, are entirely different categories. There are few forms of wrestling that I do not enjoy--sumo, twelve-men-in-the-ring free-for-alls, arm wrestling--yet I can be coaxed into liking those every now and then.
More to the point, any attempt to specialize--for example, in nude erotic mat wrestling--quickly bores me, and I become anxious to move on to some other form of wrestling or fighting for a while, as regular visitors to this blog no doubt notice. And skinny wrestlers interest me quite as often as muscle studs do, and big sweaty greaseballs occasionally draw my eye away from the trim athletes they are pitted against.
I would still say I prefer body contact, long, intense, and exhausting body contact. Competition per se doesn't interest me--most sports, especially team sports, bore me. And it's not just violence--I wouldn't walk across the street to watch a duel with guns, but tie two men together to bludgeon each other with their bare knuckles or lock each other between their thighs and under their arms, and I'd pay good money to watch.
As most of you know, for two years I have been grappling with words, trying to pin down what's behind my peculiar kink. I have mostly ruled out that it is evidence of some kind of self-loathing homophobia, or that it is a substitute for real sex. I'm inclined to think of myself as less homophobic than some super-affected queens I have known, and I am an enthusiastic proponent of sex in nearly all its forms. And if asked by some stunning stud whether I'd like to wrestle or fuck him, I'd be inclined to ask, "Why not the two together?"
So, yes, the word "wrestling" is a turn on, but I suspect it's more by association with wrestling action. "Grappling," "fighting," "pinning," "slugging it out," and "beating up" are similarly charged words for me. If two men getting down on the ground and struggling intensely, muscle on muscle, were to be called "vovetting," I'm sure the simple query "Wanna vovette?" would charge me up, quite nicely, too.
The pictures are caps from a video on spanditto's YouTube channel of two young unidentified wrestlers wrestling.