M. Chris and I passed out champagne glasses and filled them up, getting ready for the big moment. “It’s almost twelve o’clock everyone,” Chris...yelled from the chair he was standing on; he was so tipsy he almost fell off. It was great to hear every one counting down in unison, “10-9-8-7...” Before I realized it Chris had grabbed my hand and pulled me into the kitchen away from everyone. He counted softly in my ear, “3-2-1, Happy New Year,” Then planted a big kiss square on my lips. I kissed him. The audience waiting to bid would be able to sense a very large balloon of balls on display under my crotch bursting out of the pouch together with the outline of a very stiff prick pointing very plainly north to my navel. For inspection I was hung upon a carousel pipe attached to the ceiling. I was forced to run on my raised feet around the room to an inspection table where the attractive buxom assistants pulled the top of my pouch foreword revealing to the horny inspector a. More

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