Hard to Hate

I may not like everything Naked Kombat dishes out for me, but I find it hard to hate any of it either.  I have tried.  I have picked over its limited repertory of angles and dialogue--compared to the rich variety offered by bigger, more established promotions--but I have not managed to make my blood boil over it yet.  So every week I watch well-built guys with stiff cocks advance from near nudity to full nudity while they pound themselves into each other in three eight-minute rounds on a mat, the winner having his way with the loser in the final ten-minute round.  With opening and closing interviews and brief interludes between rounds, during which our combatants stare daggers into each other, we're looking at 58 to 60 minutes of aggressive man-on-man action.  Sure, it's repetitive.  And, no, there's not much of a story.  And your point?

In this week's installment, we get a tag-team event.  Kyle Braun and DJ team up against Leo Forte and Alessio Romero, basically Nordic versus Latin--a geography lesson in hostility and lust.  I can't decide whether I'm rooting for the slender, pale types because I find Braun and DJ cuter than Forte and Romero--possibly, but that Leo makes my heart skip a beat--or because of my Prussian ancestry and predilection for arrogant dicks with ice-water in their veins.  The ethnic tensions are not ignored in the opening interviews.  Braun boasts that he and DJ will "beat [the opponents] like a pinata."  DJ compares the opposing team to a "roided-out version of Menudo."  On the other side, Forte calls his opponents "flat-chested little girls."  And when Romero protests, "We will fuck them in victory," it's not such a leap to picture Leo and Alessio as heirs to the Mediterranean heroes of the golden age.

Happily my personal favorites, DJ and Leo, start the ball rolling.  What follows is the usual--the same old same old--only in double portions: tackling, spanking, nipple-twisting, gut-punching, ball-grabbing, and hip-riding--with the added pleasures of hearing the partner spur on his mate with manly encouragements (English and Spanish) from the sidelines and, as order breaks down, jumping into the fray to lend a helping fist.  The spoilers are right there in the promo, and in the shots above, so I will go ahead and confess that the ultimate "sex" round is full of images now branded on my erotic imagination forever--or at least until the lube is gone  The victors force the losers to kiss each other--with tongue!--all the more infuriating because each of the losers appears to blame the other for the loss.  The victors meanwhile pump their stiff shafts appreciatively over the kneeling men's buzzcut heads.  This eventually leads to a double-stack fuck-sandwich, with sweet moans blending with the squishy, fleshy slapping of body on body on body on body.  No, there's not a lot to criticize here--not a whole lot of witty repartee either--but angry sex (of which I know a thing or two) has never looked more satisfying and fun.


  1. What I have trouble with, is the constant butt-slapping. There's no butt slapping in wrestling! What's the point? Dominate the guy, hurt the guy, twist him around, but play paddy-cake on his butt. Not for me.


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