Tight Quarters

Nick Flex vs Gunnar Stone,  Catalog 27 - Let's Wrestle? Let's FUCK (MuscleBoy Wrestling)

Confine two muscly strongmen to a small space, and this happens. And it's about time. Flex is the bigger and heavier of the two, but Stone can still heave him up on his shoulders. The match has its awkward moments, but this isn't ballet. Within minutes, the sweat starts gushing, and tempers flare. These two guys look great wrapped up together in a succession of panting, throbbing knots. They squeeze, pound, and tear at each other's muscles. They fill the cramped fight space with their curses and grunts.

Fan of both these men, I am torn apart by this match, but torn the way I like to be torn. I'm ambivalent about the way the match ends. It's good news and bad news at once. It's enough for me that I find both wrestlers worthy of my lust - and worthy of victory. The best parts of the match are the times either man has a firm and steady grip on the other. Prolonged body contact is a turn-on. The transitions from one hold to the next or the reversals in fortune of each man by turn are sometimes ham-handed, but a little clumsiness lends more to the match's seeming authenticity than to its imperfection.

Considering Catalog 27's tagline sides with fucking over wrestling, the matches that end with a victory fuck are few. I don't think of it as a spoiler - maybe it is: I don't really know - but this match ends with a clean victory with no penetration or cum shots. That's fine by me since there's more time for RASSLING!

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