Ringing in the New Year

When my wife and I first got married, we were living the good life as two up-and-coming professionals and no family to support. We lived in this amazing condo downtown overlooking the most happening district of the city with views through the floor-to-ceiling windows clear across the river to the large park just south of Town Lake. We could see for miles from the 16th floor and see and hear the bustling activity below. There was always some party of festival going on below us it seemed.

"Bae" -- as I sometimes call her (and to maintain anonymity here) -- and I had grown tired of the overpriced and crowded New Years Eve parties and decided to stay in and celebrate at home. Every year, the city put on a fireworks display at the park nearby, so we had a tremendous view from our living room and adjacent balcony.

Despite not going out, we still wanted to ring in the new year with style, so we dressed to kill and ordered some nice champagne. I wore my best black suit, which perfectly enclosed my 5' 11'', broad shouldered frame and tapered nicely at the waist. At the time, I was a tailor's dream, with a waist six or seven inches smaller than my chest. I wore a white shirt with an open collar. I looked and felt amazing.

Bae wore a striking black shimmering dress and her favorite Louboutin heels. Bae was about 5'4" with a tight, buxom body and d-cup breasts. Her hair was blonde at the time and she wore is shoulder-length. She was a complete knock-out -- her body reminded me of Carla Gugino, full and curvy. Her dress hugged her curves perfectly, with a side slit that ran all the way up to her lower waist. It was the kind of dress that get celebrities in trouble when they try to get out of their limos. I could tell by the way her breasts sat -- perky and full -- that she was wearing a bra, but I couldn't see any sign of panties.

As we sat and drank champagne, barely paying attention to the Times Square broadcast and waiting for the fireworks, we sought some entertainment. In our living room was an elegant marble chess board we got in Mexico a few years back. Neither of us were avid players, but we knew how to play, and we thought this would be a fun idea to entertain ourselves.

We were a few glasses in, and I had been ogling her in that dress for some time, I suggested we spice things up a bit with a more exciting variation of chess. As newlyweds, our sex life was at its peak and we were greatly confident with ourselves.

My wife wasn't big into exhibitionism but would usually play along with my frequent ploys to get us naked in various situations. She has told me that she often fantasized about having sex in front of others but didn't enjoy the humiliation or reluctance aspect of it to which I got off. Little did I know, she was down to participate this evening in a big way!

The champagne was reloaded, and the chess board was moved to the coffee table. Our couch was situated in the center of the living room, with unobstructed views out of (and into) the large windows. I moved a chair to the other side of the table to take up the opposing side of the board.

The rules were simple:

• The first to lose their queen would play the rest of the game naked.

• The loser of the game would accept a challenge from the other, which would carry its own reward or punishment.

We playfully drank and played for a while, fumbling through some basic chess strategy. I was very distracted thinking about her dropping her dress on the floor in front of these huge windows. She coyly crossed and uncrossed her delicious legs between moves. I could feel my penis stretching the material of my suit. Lame excuses for what happened next.

As soon as I took my hand of the piece, I knew it -- I tried to take the move back, but she squeaked in protest and snatched my queen off the board. The teasing delight on her face was priceless -- I was in deep trouble tonight.

She placed my queen between her protruding breasts and gave me a sultry nod as if to say, "I'm waiting...". I knew what she was implying and had no choice but to comply. The game was my idea, so any welching would eliminate and chances for a rematch in the future.

I stood up from my chair and moved it temporarily out of the way. The lights we dim but not off. I was a bit concerned about people seeing in, but that's just too bad I suppose. We were in the center of the room, so I had no fear of the revelers below seeing me -- that would have been more daunting.

My jacket went first, then my shoes and pants. I folded each item and placed them on the counter as instructed. After my shirt, I was down to my last item. I stood there in my boxers, thumbing the waistband playfully. Bae nodded expectantly and gestured for me to finish the job. I did as she asked and slid my boxer down my legs and off. I placed them with the other items on the counter.

Turning to face her -- and the HUGE windows -- completely nude, she gleefully clapped at my dripping erection. Gesturing to my empty seat, I sat down to continue the game. My blunder was catastrophic, strategically. I had lost my queen exceedingly early in the game and now not only do I need to remain naked much longer than expected, but I was also hopeless in terms of winning.

We continued the game, her still stunning in the sleek dress, and me stark naked. After another 20 minutes or so, we started to hear the fireworks. Bae clapped her hands together and indicated that she wanted to watch the fireworks and that the game would continue after.

"C'mon naked boy", she said turning off the lights and gesturing for me to follow her onto the balcony. I began to protest but she cut me off exclaiming that it wasn't her fault I was naked and that she knew this was "something that turned you on, perv!" While true, hearing her say that filled me with shame, as if she was poking fun at my arousal from being forced to strip naked for the evening. I sucked up the embarrassment and followed her lead. She told me to bring the champagne and grab her glass on my way out. Very clever, seeing as this chore left me with no hands to cover my exposed manhood.

The fireworks were spectacular, and I did enjoy them, despite my exposure every time the sky lit up. Despite being in Texas, it was rather chilly, and my erection retreated considerably. After the grand finale and cheering from the crowd -- hopefully for the fireworks and not my show! -- her and I headed back into the living room.

I tried to be affectionate with her with a hug from behind and a hand up the slit in the dress -- perhaps I could get us to the bedroom before I ensure any further humiliation, but she spun out of my embrace elegantly, playfully reminding me we have a game to finish. "Oh yes, my hopeless march to pure humiliation..." I thought.

As expected, I was not able to recover from my queen's early demise and Bae checkmated me soon after we resumed the game. The look on her face was a mix of delight and revenge. She instructed me to refill her glass and to stand where my chair was and await her further instructions.

Still nude, I handed her the champagne and awaited my fate. As I mentioned before, Bae was playful and sometimes got into my fantasy exhibitionist play for my benefit, but never this enthusiastically. I was genuinely worried about what she had in store for me.

"Here's the deal Naked Boy -- you are going to stand over by that window, buck naked, and for 5 minutes. You will masturbate for me and whoever else happens to be glancing in this direction. If you don't cum within the first minute, I will turn the lights on fully and you can finish in the spotlight. You can decide how far from the window you want to stand, but your cum shot must reach the glass or it doesn't count. Should you make any attempt to cover yourself, know that I'll be recording the whole thing and will send the video to all of our friends.

My heart sank and my previous arousal began to wane. Her plan was evil -- she designed it so that I would likely ejaculate quickly and then must stand there naked, no longer aroused -- and that was the good option! Alternatively, I would be putting on a show for countless people and their phone cameras.

My face must have revealed my internal reluctance, and she explained that I was getting off easy by remaining in the condo -- and that she was contemplating harsher, much more public, punishments. She was quick to remind me that this was my idea and very much in line with the stories I had been reading online. THAT WAS IT -- She had snooped my phone and was getting her payback for my masturbation content. I knew something was up. I do have to hand it to her though -- she took a big risk to get to this point. To this day, I still think about what could have been if I had won -- but that's another story!

Welp, here goes nothing. I choked down the lump in my throat and took my position near the windows -- I opted to be very close, not wanting to miss. I could see dozens of people on the street below. I could also see some neighbors on their balconies nearby. They may see me anyway! If the lights come on, I'm totally fucked.

Bae settled herself on the balcony with her wine and the remote to the living room overhead lights, looking back in through the window, eager to see the show. She nodded expectantly and showed me her phone, which showed a 5-minute countdown with 20 seconds already elapsed!

There was no time to be bashful, I knew she would click those lights on at 59 seconds if I hadn't yet shot my load. I grabbed my flaccid dick and began frantically stroking. Bae shrieked with delight watching me lick my hand repeatedly trying to lube myself up with complete urgency. I had always fantasized about situations like this, but living them is a different story. Fantasies are private and safe, this was a risky, lewd display that could get me in serious trouble or memorialized on the internet for all to see. I imagine that the "New Year's Eve Window Cum Sprayer" would go viral (I'd watch it).

Keeping those thoughts out of my head while I focused on the "task in hand" proved difficult and my erection kept waning. Bae teasingly let me know that we were at 45 seconds, and I desperately picked up the pace. Finally, I felt myself get over the edge and my balls tighten. An involuntary moan escaped my lips and my hips bucked toward the window. Five thick ropes of semen shot out of my cock and landed on the window glass, soliciting a cheer from my wife, who was still watching from the balcony, now with one free hand caressing her left breast and the other recording my shameful performance with her phone camera.

I stood breathless by the window, still nude, no longer horny and feeling mortified, but in the comfort of darkness. My penis, red from the beating it had just taken, began to shrivel and retreat into its foreskin. My loving wife looked on with a thirsty, mischievous glisten in her eye. The crowd below began to cheer and countdown to the new year. As they got to zero, she held up her phone which showed 1 minute and 5 seconds elapsed. She then blew her naked husband a kiss, and pressed the "on" button to the living room lights, illuminating my nude body for viewing by anyone who happened to be looking in my direction.

With no real choice but to stand there, not wanting our friends to see a video of my masturbation, I counted down the minutes trying to avoid eye contact with anyone on the street below.

I'll never know how many people saw me or how many pictures there may be of my nakedness. I take comfort in believing that I would not be recognizable from that distance but I'm still not sure.

In retrospect, I do get hot thinking about this misadventure and next time I'll be weary of my wife's motives for getting me naked!