We Don't Have to Take Our Clothes Off to Have a Good Time

Mike Dennis defeated an overdressed B. Fehrm at last Saturday's National Pro Wrestling Superstars in North Middletown, New Jersey. My preference is for skin, naturally, but I've often argued that wrestling can be hot even if both wrestlers are in business suits. The untucking of a shirttail and the popping of a few buttons adds something. I always got a charge when, after a resounding victory, some sweaty hunk guns for the fancily dressed manager, pulling him into the ring to muss him up.

Coincidentally, on Wednesday, Wrestling Arsenal posted a fascinating entry called "Clothed Wrestler, Naked Wrestler," pertaining to the CMNM kink ("clothed male, naked male"), which, as noted, rates a tingle with me as well. Given the symbolism of clothes, the contrast represents an imbalance in power--just as, in a heterosexual context, we used to get James Bond in a tux surrounded by the Bond girls in bikinis, until Daniel Craig arose bikini-clad from the Caribbean waves in Casino Royale, a blow for women's equality as well as for homoeroticism. I highly recommend that you read Wrestling Arsenal's take on this phenomenon.

My particular kink appears to be atypical (big surprise, eh?). I like the naked guy to top the clothed guy. It's my Tarzan fixation, perhaps. Or my solidarity with the 99%. The end result need not be a rip'n'strip, though you won't hear me complaining if it is; for me, a few torn seams and a few sprung cowlicks are good enough steps towards equality. When both wrestlers are in suits, as in Can-Am's Suits to Nuts, the level of disarray is a running scorecard of who's beating whom. I never thought of this before, but this may be why I liked the rumpled look in fashion. As for sex, I even get a charge out of dry-humping in jeans and flannels, especially if I already know what's underneath the threads.

Clothes, like wrestling, symbolize both status and sex. I'm a self-rated Kinsey 6, but a plunging neckline on a busty woman makes me a little lightheaded, whereas bare breasts do nothing for me at all. After a hard day at work, I sometimes arrived home to find my boyfriend dressed head to toe in my clothes, and inevitably the sight gave rise to a hard day at home; I could not wait to get into my own pants.

(Photos: Scott Finkelstein)


  1. Great posting, and thanks for referencing my recent Blog article, Clothed Wrestler, Naked Wrestler at wrestlingarsenal.net. Good point by the way: it can be very exciting to see a "Tarzan" wrestler over-power a fully-clothed opponent. Maybe I can work that into a future article.


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