"Uh, it says, right hand on red."

"I still can't believe you've never played Twister," I said, reaching for a red dot.

"I still can't believe the rules say you have to play naked," said Tim, his thick, heavy hardon lightly jabbing into my back.

"All right, you got me.  I made that part up."

"I'm not complaining," Tim breathed into the side of my neck, grinding his hardon into the small of my back for a teasing moment.  "It's a good rule."

"Glad you like it.  Left foot on green."

I could feel him struggling momentarily over me.  "I can't."

"Why not?"

"My left foot's on blue."

"So move it."

He struggled again, and I arched my back to catch the grind of his hardon, which was beginning to leave a wet trail everywhere it touched.  "I'm stuck."

"So you forfeit?"

"No."

"Well, then put your left foot on green."

"Can I just move yours instead?"

I smirked into the mat.  "No," I replied, deadpan, "the rules say the left foot has to be one of your own."

"Oh."  Tim struggled for a few moments longer, and then suddenly I heard a foot hit the mat.  Tim let out a sigh of relief.  "Got it."

"'Bout time!"

"I think I see why you like this game," murmured Tim, nuzzling my neck, his cock now jabbing right at my ass.

A huge drop of precum gathered at the tip of my hardon and dripped onto the plastic below.  I managed to speak between heavy breaths.  "You... gonna... flick... the... spinner?"

I felt Tim's affirmative "mmm–hmm" muffled by the nape of my neck, but I couldn't feel either of his arms leaving my sides to work the spinner, only his cock teasing my ass.

"You... wanna just... stop now?...  Or spin for the... next move?"

Tim lifted his mouth momentarily.  "I spun it.  It's..."  He turned his head to check.  "...left hand yellow."

"Oof."  This was going to be tough.  I lifted my hand and wavered a bit, slowly trying to turn myself so that I could reach.  Each contact with Tim's body—and there were many—made my dick jump, sprinkling more precum onto the colored plastic.  It didn't help that Tim was practically fucking me.

I groped with my hand, hitting obstacle after obstacle, Tim's arm, my arm, Tim's arm again, and finally reached a yellow dot.  "Hah!"  I exclaimed in triumph.  "Betcha thought I couldn't do that!"

"Now let's see you flick the spinner."

"Um...."  There was no way I could reach, so precariously balanced I couldn't even move my head, stuck staring at a red dot two inches from my nose.  "I'm going to have to appeal to your kindness to do it for me," I mumbled into the dot, scooting my ass back against Tim's cock.  I must have overshot, because I felt it hit my lower back instead.

Tim hummed into my ear, and didn't even seem to move—or perhaps my senses were overwhelmed tangled under him like this—but I heard a finger flick the spinner.  Tim glanced up.  "Right foot red.  Easy enough."  I heard his foot hit the plastic.

"What?"  Perhaps I was confused, but I would have thought that move would've required Tim to practically flip over.  "No way it was that easy."

"I told you, I've got the hang of it now," Tim said, nuzzling my neck, his cock back at my ass.

Another drop of my precum hit the mat.  "No way, I don't believe it."  I ducked my head down, at least as much as I could, to check.  Tim's mouth gave up on my neck and moved to the ridge of my traps.  He must have been rocking back and forth over me; his hard cock kept leaving alternate trails of slick wetness across my lower back, and right around my anus.  It took me a moment to see around my own awkwardly placed arms, but there on a red dot was Tim's right foot, just as he'd promised.  I shook my head.  Even with just the two of us, I was getting confused in the tangle.

Tim was already flicking the spinner for me.  "Right hand green," he murmured into my ear.

"Sure... thing..." I panted, overwhelmed by Tim all around, feeling his hot shaft and balls grind into my back while he pushed at my pucker with his cock head—wait, no... that wasn't right... right hand on red...

I lifted my right hand...

and immediately fell onto the mat, rolling over but caught in the prison of Tim's limbs.

"You didn't do it right!" he exclaimed, laughing down at me.

I grinned up at him, but faltered—something didn't feel right.  Tim's presence felt heavy, almost onerous.  I looked down.

"Holy shit, Tim!"

I couldn't believe what I was seeing.  Tim had three hands comfortably arranged on their assigned dots; a fourth free for the spinner reached for my cock.  But it was the second pair of legs, arranged naturally behind the first—with their own drooling hardon—that blew my mind completely.

Tim untangled his legs from their game-winning stance and threaded mine between his, that new second hardon once again poking at my hole.  "So since I won, can I claim my prize?"

"Oh, fuck..."

Tim didn't need any encouragement, and soon that cock, new but familiar, was plowing me hard.  But that wasn't half as exhilarating as having Tim jerking my cock, tweaking my nipple, and massaging my chest at the same time.  I grabbed his original cock with both hands and jerked as if for dear life.

We couldn't last long; moment later Tim's hot cum was both roaring into my ass and burning across my chest, mixing with my own abundant load.

I lay there several minutes, Tim still perched over me on his eight limbs; both of us panting.

Despite being driven to the point of exhaustion, the double-dicked stud over me left me no choice: once again I started to get hard.

Tim laughed; four balls were driving his dicks back to hardness as well.  He picked up the spinner in one hand and held it up to me, flicking the needle with another.

"Another round?"