In BG East's Hunkbash 14, Austin Cooper is all dolled-up in red-white-and-blue trunks, knee-high red boots, and gold wristbands, looking for all the world like Wonder Woman's Mini-Me (or else Myron Breckinridge). With a fake "World Wrestling Champion" belt around his waist, he's just begging for a busting-up. Dev Michaels sits off to the side in metallic ultramarine square-cut trunks, laughing his rock-hard ass off. If any man is built to cut a primped body beautiful down to size, it's Dev.

Something about Dev--the muscular aquadynamic shoulders, perhaps, or his eyes' shark-like coldness--makes me imagine him thrusting his torso up from the sea with a trident in one upraised fist. Yeah, he could pass as a brother of Zeus--and, like Poseidon, he can make earthquakes. He clears the top rope with a single bound, and his boots bang the mat like cannon fire. He gets right up in Austin's face, jabs his finger to the guy's pec, and claims the belt, phony or not, as his own.

Coop makes the mistake of turning his back on Dev, and Dev clubs him from behind with his balled-up fist, rips the belt from his waist, and bashes his head with its metal plate. Then he threads Austin's torso through the ropes and delivers some grade-A abuse. When Dev smashes Coop face down to the mat, not a rare occurrence in this match, the BGE cameraman (God bless him) zooms in on the jobber-hero's patriotically decked buns. I've never been so tempted to salute.

Dev hit my radar in a big way in BGE's Wrestle Revenge when, in an act of vengeance for the ambush beating of Z-Man, he demolishes a super-pumped Tyrell Tomsen one muscle group at a time. He's no pretty boy, but he makes a breathtaking impression. The first glimpse of him never fails to make me gulp drily. The guy is scary-muscular. When he grimaces, baring his teeth, it's impossible for me to shake the impression that Dev might literally bite somebody's face off. There's nobody like him in underground wrestling. He's explosive without seeming out of control. His rage does not even seem like real rage; it's rather like the fixed ferocity of a sharknado. He's sexy without the cutesy elements, nothing boy-like about him.

Poor lovely Austin hasn't a chance. Next let's feed Dev some Brad Barnes or Alexi Adamov or Jake Jenkins ... any alliterative babyface with a smokin' bod will do.


  1. Coop reminds of 3 -- count 'em, 3 -- hot studs I've known over the years, first in high school, then in college, and later at my office. I know that a lot of my preferences among wrestlers is based on these "template" attractions from the past, and what AC somehow does for me is to turn me on from every angle: jobber/heel, basher/bashee, and not least, the side angle shots in which his uber-narrow waist allows his cock to project its bulbuos profile like a fuckin' Fuji.

    1. Lucky you to have known three Austin prototypes! Personal associations and templates like these stoke the flames of passion and imagination for me too, though for me, in Coop's case, they are only generic: GIs, preachers' sons, and college athletes.


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