Forrest Taylor: 5'7, 156 lbs
Forrest's fashion faux pas works against as he's hoisted and hung by his own suspenders
Forrest plants his scrumptious little booty on the face of his opponent in a reverse schoolboy
Marc looks to silence Forrest's furious offense once and for all with a crotch-to-face smother
The writing's on the wall as the fiery little jobber tries to beg off a crotch stomp from Marc
Forrest looks to prove his haters wrong with a submission on the big man in camel clutch
Who's Your Daddy
Forrest Taylor brings out the worst in people. The inordinate pride he takes in his lush red beard and gorgeously fit muscles always prompts his opponents to relentlessly yank on his hair and pummel his rock hard body. His indefatigable ego refuses to admit defeat until he's been beaten to a pulp, which inevitably inspires challengers to employ ever more brutal ways of destroying him. Outside the ring, he receives equal amounts of fawning accolades and trash talking challenges, and the fierce little lumberjack's snarky attitude somehow manages to piss everyone off just the same.
Barrel-chested bear daddy Marc Giocomo thought he was paying Forrest a compliment when he sent him a message praising him for winning the title of Jobber of the Year. Marc has been a sincere fan of Forrest from the beginning. However, as with so many exchanges with the sexy little spark plug, Forrest managed to alienate his eager supporter. He questioned Marc's right to call him a jobber and challenged his "armchair critic" to "put up or shut up," issuing a challenge to face him in the ring.
Marc stomps into the ring room hot, determined to wring some respect for the fans out of the impudent hunk. Instead, Forrest jumps him from behind, latching onto the bear daddy's hairy back like a monkey and cinching tight a sleeper. It's a cheap, punk-ass move, but the red-headed scrapper clearly has no shame when it comes to doing whatever it takes to level the playing field against a big brute twice his size. Despite abundantly earning his title as Jobber of the Year, Forrest proves again and again that he's seriously dangerous, particularly when underestimated. He rocks his increasingly irate challenger hard with savage low blows and relentless elbow drops driving into Marc's hairy chest. When he manages to put the big man on his back, Forrest licks his lips with delight as he pries apart Marc's thick thighs and gas pedals the big man's massive bulge. "You fucking cheater," the former fan growls bitterly, sucking on an impressive helping of lightweight punishment. "Cheater?" Forrest feigns shock. "No, I'm just looking for opportunities to win!"
Forrest regrets poking this particular bear right around the time that Marc muscles his way on top and buries the pretty boy's face in his ass. Working out a boatload of frustration on behalf of everyone who Forrest has irritated over the years, Marc pummels his opponent's alabaster abs until they're burning bright red. When one of Forrest's signature red suspenders pops loose, his opportunistic opponent immediately strangles him with it. Marc easily outmuscles his much lighter opponent, lifting, slamming, and tossing Forrest at will. He savors the opportunity for ball bashing revenge, and easily rips the lumberjack's tartan trunks off, the better to spank the naughty boy's bare ass until it's cherry red.
Forrest is a punishment sponge, and it should surprise no one that he not only endures the avalanche bearing down on him but manages to fight his way back into contention. When both bitter rivals are stripped bare, it's abundantly clear that the tension between them is fueled by more than just fragile egos. Marc uses his mammoth, uncut cock to knock to beat his stubborn opponent senseless, tying Forrest in the ropes and taking possession of his equally aroused poker. "Who's your daddy," Marc demands to know, over and over again, wearing Forrest down blow by blow, hold by hold, and humiliation by humiliation.
Forrest and Marc decisively settle the question of who's the daddy and who's the boy toy, with a climactic cum shot that douses the loser. We may never hear Forrest admit that there's a method to his trash talking madness, that his knack for pissing opponents off is a calculated ploy to drive them to the bitter edge of brutal erotic combat. But no one can deny that he brings out the primal rage in Marc and masterfully molds it into one of the hottest, fiercest, sexiest X-Fights on record.
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A crotch-to-face figure four headscissors finds the big man at the mercy of his smaller foe
Prostrated and pinned face down, Forrest writhes helplessly on the mat as Marc has his way
Forrest's ass gets turned as red as his hair with Marc laying down a brutal, humbling spanking
Marc grinds his eager member into the face of his rope bound opponent as he hangs helplessly
With his arm wrenched up his back, Forrest is forced to kneel before the beefy brawler
Marc's copious chest hair rivals the magnificence of Forrest's beard as he's forced to worship
Marc Giacomo: 5'10, 225 lbs
Aiming to notch up a rare victory, Forrest clings to Marc's back and rides him down with a choke
Ridden and ground into the mat, Forrest's cute little bubble butt once again spanked by Marc
Marc's lust is evident with the beaten jobber kneeling and nuzzling his tenting trunks
Forrest attempts to soothe his blistered ass as Marc drags him up for more torture
A foregone conclusion? The big, beefy daddy tramples and flexes on a flattened Forrest