Maybe there just is no right way to wake a sound sleeper, but Thunder's Arena knows exactly how I like to be aroused. In No Holds Barred 16, Eric Fury, 5'7", 190#, should have been up at eight o'clock, and it's three in the afternoon now. Thunder sends Uno, 6', 230#, to prod the sleepyhead off the sheets. I'd be happy to be waked by either of these two guys in fashion underwear (or to jump him while he slumbers), but Fury is grouchy in the morning, especially when the "morning" in question is actually in the mid-afternoon after a hard night. Uno endeavors to slap the cobwebs out of him, an approach that rouses Eric a bit too much. Wrestling ensues--or else why would I be writing about it, right?--and Fury commands an early lead. The action spills to the wrestling mat, conveniently next to the bed, and the tide turns in Uno's favor. Uno heaves Fury up on his shoulders and tosses him back on the bed and gives the slothful bodybuilder's nuts a nasty twist. Now that should clear a man's head right fast! It's not over yet, though, but that's all I'm going to say about it, having a modicum of respect for those who hate spoilers.
So far the Arena has gotten around to pushing, as I estimate, about 43% of my kinkster buttons, and I wish the company many more years of productivity so that it can get around to the other 57%, because when it lands on a button, that button gets royally pushed. Earlier this year the good folks at Thunder's gave me Z-Man nearly drowning Dallas in the pool and then Sirus holding Cameron Mathews' head down in the bobbing-for-apples bucket at Halloween--two high points of the year for me, so far, and ones that have me thinking of new situations for my Michael Phelps fantasies--and now, with NHB16, it ensures that something other than visions of sugarplums will be dancing in my head as I sleep through the long nights of winter.
This is an awesome match, with two game young he-men tussling on a king-size bed. This strikes a chord with me, and why wouldn't it? When I was growing up, beds in movies were inherently "sexy" even when not much was going on in them ... pre-MPAA ratings, that is. In Hollywood in the early to mid 1960s, a bed was the symbol of sex, when not much else about the deed could be directly depicted. Then, for ten years of my life, from 18 to 28, bedrooms and motel rooms served as my ersatz wrestling rings. A bout on a bed is something of an ideal of mine, still--maybe there's also something to be said for the rumpling of sheets and pillows, the disorder that two rolling, grinding, thrusting bodies can effect. A firm mattress gives better than adequate support for two bodies in the midst of trouncing each other.
Eric Fury seems to get the appeal of the bedroom rumpus, and he holds nothing back, bearing down on Uno as if trying to squeeze the man dry. Uno resists at first, but a little coaxing convinces him that, indeed, a bedroom can lead to "where the wild things are." Good times!