Back in the 80s, if you lacked a VCR, or porn mags, your only choice might have been tuning into pro wrestling on a Saturday Morning. Back in the day, the Saturday Morning gladiators were awash with gorgeous young men who did not have tattoos, or appear to be pumped up on steroids...some of the bruisers of this era had honest muscles made by exercise and sweat. For instance, feast your eyes on Paul Roma and Jim Powers, two slabs of man meat who tag teamed under the name of "The Young Stallions"
Powers always got my blood pumping. That gorgeous head of hair, that Hollywood smile, those fucking muscles, that gorgeous arse. He suffered like a good jobber, and sometimes dealt the punishment to his opponents.
Meanwhile, his partner, Roma, a Roman God Come to Life, would always come to the aid of his buddy. Paul was tough, resilient and the stuff that wet dreams were made of. Later on in his career he became a bad guy, a bastard, who took sadistic joy on inflicting pain on his opponents.
Both men had impressive bulges as well as incredible physiques. Watching them punish the guys they took on was a pleasure, but watching them suffer was also a joy. Heck, even looking at them in form fitting t-shirts was enough to make some of us shoot a load.
Powers, had this sort of Matinee Idol look to him. That Rock and Roll boy hair, that handsome face, those pecs, that smile...did I mention how much he got my blood pumping? Oh yeah, I think I did.
Oh and that hair, damn, damn, damn, that crown of gorgeous curly hair. The way it framed his beautiful face...they don't build 'em like this anymore.
But when it came to muscle, and machismo, Roma ruled the ring...
Need more proof?
Another thing I sort of obsessed over, Jim Powers' back muscles...
Then again, from the front, he also made me salivate.
The (not so) Young Stallions Today...fuck it, they still get my motor running.
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