If you have to ask who Kharn Alexander is, you haven`t been paying attention. He`s only the hottest piece of ass in the wrestling world to date, and somehow he looks even leaner, even trimmer, even more well-defined. This swarthy pirate prince catches the light. Chiseled biceps adorned with swirling tattoos shine with a golden outline. Abs, thighs, and glorious pecs practically shimmer, as the raven-haired hunk dips, lunges, and strains to find the perfect stretch. In crimson trunks and black leather boots, this stubbled stud is perfection. From head to toe, flawless, and probably the envy of every man he meets in the ring or otherwise. This is a guy you either want to fuck, fight, fondle...or all three.
Enter Jimmy Stranton, who doesn`t seem impressed. Jimmy is something else altogether. Smaller than Alexander, with a lighter complexion, and dirty-blonde locks that fall almost to his shoulders, this orange-speedoed boss enters the ring like he was born there. Stranton has a cool confidence, a casual way of speaking and strutting that lends him a sort of brotherly quality that is eclipsed only by a complete unawareness of his total sexual draw. Stranton is a golden idol, and he begins by informing Alexander that he lacks flexibility.
"I`m going to teach you how to stretch," says Stranton, offering advice that nobody asked for. Naturally, it`s a trap.
All too soon the ballsy boy has Alexander in a painful hold, slapping his shoulders and back, yanking his arms backward roughly, all the while taking to Alexander in a calm, cool voice, while the bigger man suffers.
"I don`t bend this way, you son of a bitch! What the fuck!"
Fists fly. Necks are grasped tightly, heads are plowed into corner poles. That`s when the sextastic Alexander takes his revenge, perfect lips curling in frustration, as he drives the overconfident Stranton into the floor, arms locked around his head. Now we see the Alexander we know and love...now we see the smirking skeleton on the back of his crimson trunks, reminding us that he is no pretty boy, but a trained athlete you wouldn`t want to challenge.
"Now I have to make you suffer," says the tattooed hunk. Both bodies collide, faces are slapped, pecs are brutalized, jaws are stretched, and muscle men writhe in pain. Stranton tortures Alexander with a brutal, wrenching attack to the neck that has to hurt, before attacking his abs while the pirate prince falls to his knees in pain.
"What the fuck do you want?" Alexander demands.
"I want to hear you scream," Stranton says calmly, only to find his face trapped in Alexander`s armpit as he`s driven into an agonizing backbreaker. Amazingly, Stranton breaks free and inflicts the exact same tormenting hold on Alexander.
Next it`s hair-pulling, reversed bear hugs, digging elbows, figure fours, and every type of tightly clenched hold in the book...and even some we`ve never seen before...ever heard of shoe torture?
Throughout the match these two bodacious boys trash talk, challenge, dare each other, with sarcasm and sass, calling each other choice names, threatening, punching, and pounding, like teenage stepbrothers. It`s a thrilling combination of standing lockups, floor work, and rope torture, with the roles ever changing. No one man is on top for too long.
So begins another session of suffering, as two hot-bodied hunks collide in a glorious bout filled with nasty moves, crotch abuse, and complete and total masculine rivalry.
