"You never get a second chance to make a first impression" is a well known advertising slogan which has by now entered the language. I'd like to go one further and say you rarely get a second chance to score with the same trick, so if you're wise you'd better make the first move before he moves out of that train or bus or mall or elevator and out of your life. After all the worst he can do is say no or hurl some insult at you but if you have the strength of your convictions chances are you'll be making it with him within the next hour or so.

That's my experience anyway. That is until I met Matthew who somewhat turned the tables on me which only goes to show that a theory is fine until you try to put it into practice. Still I've met some of the nicest guys in subway cars or supermarket lines and at bus stops and gas stations. I even met one super guy when I was taking my dog to the vet. The secret is to be laid back and happy, to smile at them and show them you think life is great. Then if they turn away and walk in the opposite direction, you reserve that smile for the guy who's ready to receive it. In my case the guy was Matthew. I met him in Quincy market when I was buying fish. Actually, I had no intention of buying fish that day but I saw him going towards the market and, as I very much liked what I saw, I followed him.

He stopped in front of the fish stall so I jumped right in there and started asking the fishmonger intelligent questions about fish and engaging Matthew in the conversation. Before he knew where he was, I was inviting him to my place for dinner to eat the fish and in that way my fish was hooked and his fish was cooked. As you see I've quite a way with words, which helps of course. To tell you the truth I also make a living at it. I'm a copywriter. I write slogans like the one at the beginning of this story. My first job was writing copy for a product that eliminated tapeworms. I came up with the slogan, 'We've got tapeworms taped,' and have never looked back.

Anyway, I'd been looking for someone like Matthew for quite some time. He's the kind of guy who goes around in clothes that are just that bit too large for him. But there's something about how he wears them, or the way he has of walking, which suggests to you that there might be a great body under all that material. So soon you're dying to see his butt and taste his dick. At least I am.

Before you get the wrong idea I'd better tell you that I'm twenty six and a fun guy and I like to give other guys a good time too. However, I'm much more attracted to the shy blushing types who are dying for the chance to suck dick or open their butt but don't quite know how to go about it. I love the challenge of bringing them out of the closet or the comfortable hell of habit. I like watching them develop. Seeing them bloom and blossom. Preen their petals open. Know what I mean?

I walked Matthew back to his apartment. but he didn't ask me up as he had a rehearsal. He played the clarinet and was preparing a program of Brahms and Schubert for Tanglewood. I was very pleased to hear this because, besides the fact that I really love classical music, it also meant he had sensitive lips. In fact his mouth was one of the things I liked most about him. That and his overlong hair which flopped all over his face. As usual, I went off on one of my flights of fancy imagining myself running my fingers through his luscious locks while his lips made a magic flute out of my dick.

I gave him my address and told him I would expect him at seven. He said he really appreciated the invitation as he was new to Boston and didn't know many people yet. His uncle was an orchestra leader but was in Paris at the moment so he was pretty lonely. I wanted to tell him he could show me his appreciation later but instead wished him a good rehearsal. I prepared a great dinner but did my best to keep it simple. No candles or flowers. No soft lights and no sweet music. I didn't want to scare him off on his first visit. Of course, I did have a great cd of Richard Stoltzman playing Copland's Clarinet Concerto which turned out to be one of the pieces Matthew was in the process of rehearsing. And I did eventually light some candles after dinner as they provided great atmosphere for the music. I'd also opened a bottle of red wine but my guest was much happier with mineral water.

We sat on the floor leaning against my white divan. He was in jeans and a floppy black sweater which contrasted nicely with the furniture. On an impulse, I asked him if I could take some photos of him. He made the usual pathetic excuses about not really being photogenic etc. but eventually agreed. At this point, I was almost as shy as he was, because for once in my life I didn't know how to make the first move. After all that shit I said before about striking while the iron is hot, or words to that effect, the real truth of the matter was I didn't want to offend him. You see there's quite a subtle difference between a trick and a treat. A trick is someone you want to fuck and forget. A treat is someone you want to share your life with. And I was beginning to like him too much and I didn't want to lose him.

I took some photos with my digital camera then he got up and started to leave. I began to panic. Now was the moment to pounce. Get him to take off his sweater. Suck his nipples till he was weak at the knees. Savour his dick. Tear his butt to shreds. Make him my slave. Instead I shook his hand politely and thanked him for coming. He asked for my telephone number equally politely and left.

After he'd gone, I looked at the photos I'd taken of him and cursed my stupidity for not daring to take some of him naked. I'd had my chance and I blew it. I'm usually not so backward in coming forward but with him it was different. After all, I told myself, he was a musician and very sensitive. I had to play it by ear so to speak. Then the phone rang. He said he'd forgotten to thank me. He wanted to see me again. He wanted to invite me to Tanglewood. His uncle had a house there. Did I have a car? Could I drive him there on Saturday? All my answers were in the affirmative. My dick exulted. I wanted to get him back there right now so we could make love all night long but I decided to cool it. After all, he was the musician. He was calling the score not me. I smiled to myself.

Saturday came and it was bitterly cold. In fact snow had been forecast so we set off very early in the morning. I had all my heavy sweaters with me and some blankets just in case. I also had a picnic hamper full of goodies. Soon we were in that beautiful countryside that lies between Boston and New York. As we reached Tanglewood, it began to snow heavily. Matthew gave me directions and to my surprise we came to a huge country mansion overlooking a lake. It looked like something out of a D.H.Lawrence novel. There was even a gamekeeper's cottage and a cluster of trees in the grounds.

Matthew jumped out of the car and started gathering logs and stuff. He beckoned me to join him and together we collected enough to build a fire. The snow was thick now so it was a race against time as the wood was already getting wet. And so were we. In fact we were soaked by the time we got inside the cottage. And freezing cold.

Matthew began building a fire and I went out to the car to get the luggage. When I got back he was in the process of taking off his wet clothes and urging me to do the same. Then he handed me a glass of brandy and an enormous towel. We gulped down the brandy and started rubbing each other down. It was so exhilarating and so unexpected. We were naked in front of each other and it seemed the most natural thing in the world. What a pleasant contrast to the rather strained formality of the other evening. Matthew wrapped one of my blankets around him and looked for some music.

"Do you like Wagner?" he asked, "I've got the entire Ring Cycle here." What could I say?

The music was very powerful and really appropriate for our surroundings. Matthew found some candles and we spread them all around. "I love listening to music by candlelight." he said. "Thank you for the other night." Then he kissed me the sweetest kiss and we lay on a fur rug in front of the fire, listening to Wagner. I had other clothes in my suitcase and I knew he had some too but neither of us made one move to get dressed. I looked at his body reflecting the firelight, drops of melted snow still in his long hair. I was not disappointed. He was as I'd imagined he would be and with something extra. His dick was more than average in length and strangely reminiscent of his clarinet. He saw me admiring it and blushed. To show my approval, I bent down to kiss it and before I knew what was happening we were rolling around on the fur rug, sucking and fucking each other in the firelight like Alan Bates and Oliver Reed in that Turner Classic movie "Women in Love."

I did as I'd dreamed of doing and ran my fingers through his hair as he devoured my dick. Initially he'd needed a little persuasion as apparently he'd never had such an instrument in his mouth before so I went down on him first and he soon got the idea. And I was right. His lips were like suction pumps. They drove me wild. And when he saw the effect he was having on me, he took cruel delight in running his tongue along my penis and wrapping his vibrant lips around its pulsating head. I had to hang on to his hair otherwise I'd have gone straight to heaven through the ceiling. He had plenty of hair in other places too. Especially on his lower body. I nuzzled my nose in the furry rug of his ass after I'd sent him on an ecstasy trip with my tongue. I started with his juicy nipples and then travelled down to his navel and under his balls as I lifted his legs high in the air to tongue fuck his butt. At the same time I kept coming back to his mouth for more because he was just the best kisser and I'd be half way up his butt with my tongue only to find I was already missing his kissing.

The music was so wild and our passion so strong that we seemed to be in constant crescendo. I knew I wanted to fuck the shit out of him but I didn't want to sap his energy so thought I'd better give him the chance to fuck me first. I'd had the foresight to bring some lube with me. As I reached out for it, my butt must have been too good to resist, for he was down on me in a second, putting to good use the tongue fucking lesson I'd just given him. I must say he learned fast and was quick to take the initiative. Something I hadn't expected of him. I'd met my match.

I lubed him up real good and soon felt the knob of his incredible dick trying to work its way inside me. I opened my butt wide with my hands. He was knocking at my door and I sure as hell wanted him to come in but my ass had never hosted such a generous guest and at first I had more than a little difficulty accommodating him.

I sobbed as he entered me. In fact it took my breath away. Instinctively, he took hold of my dick to take my mind off my butt and I discovered that, besides all his other qualities, he had fabulous fingers. They played wonders with my dick. Made it sing in fact. And I wriggled my ass in appreciation. At that he slipped in easily and I could feel the heat of him. Or the heat of my burning butt. I don't know which.

Anyway, it was all one and the same now and I surrendered to the music, especially the increasing vibrato Matthew was sending up my ass with his classy clarinet solo. In fact my timpani had never been played by such an accomplished musician. I could feel his dick expanding in my shaft and was soon panting with pain and pleasure.

I raised my butt higher and higher to receive still more of him. Now it was his turn to let himself go and he did so with a vengeance. In fact, he pounded the hell out of me but my cries were drowned by the surge of Wagner's music as we came together in a thunderous crescendo of mutual applause.

Soon I had to build up the fire again as it was getting low. I got dressed and fetched some more wood. It sizzled sexily when I put it on the fire. Then we opened my picnic basket and ate our fill and after a little more kissing and sucking fell fast asleep. Two happy bugs in a fur rug. When we woke up the music had stopped so it was Matthew's turn to get up. This time to turn the records over. His uncle had one of those old fashioned record players where two or three disks dropped down but you had to turn them over to listen to the other side. This reminded me that I still hadn't turned Matthew over yet and my dick began to stir at the thought of it. Especially as he was busy bending over the record player and giving me a full view of the lush terrain. I intended to excavate.

It didn't take me a moment to put some lube on my dick and I crept up behind him and was inside him before he could say Sigfried or Brunhilde. Now it was his turn to cry out. I slid my dick in and out of his ass in time to the music and he let out little groans of delight so I increased the momentum. He pushed his soft young butt down on my rock hard dick begging for more. I gave it to him, and how, bending my knees and putting as much strength behind each thrust as I could muster. The more I bent my knees the further he sat on my prong, grasping my dick with his butt as if he never wanted to let me go and moving his ass like a deranged dervish until he had sucked the fuck out of me. Who's fucking who I wondered at one stage but once again it didn't matter, as we were one with the music and with each other.

Then just as one of the Valkyries or Rhine maidens, or whatever they're called, was in full throttle and hitting a high note, we came. I don't know who screamed the loudest but it all merged with the wild music and we were in perfect harmony. It was just great and I couldn't wait to kiss him again. But first I wanted to drink the juice of him before it all went to waste. I licked the creamy cum from his dick then kissed him full in the mouth, giving him a taste of his own medicine so to speak.

Finally we lay on the fur rug, all passion spent, and watched the dying embers of the fire.

I don't know how long the Ring Cycle lasts but we sure as hell outlasted it.

Afterwards I got to take the nude shots I'd wanted and they were stunning.

Unlike us, the fire still had some life left in it and the light from the candles flickered not only in the shining mahogany of his hair but in the soft fur of his armpits and pubes, setting off the long dark shadow of his woodwind of a dick.

I sighed. Sweet contentment filled the silence. The music had stopped. Matthew asked me if I'd enjoyed it.

What could I say? I was ready to hear it all over again.

He kissed me and told me that his uncle had conducted the orchestra.

I kissed him back and told him his uncle sure would have been surprised to see the effect his conducting had on us.

He smiled and kissed me again.

End of cycle.