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Tactical Twister
by Holly Rennick (address withheld)
***
Who didn’t cop a feel when playing this one from Milton
Bradley? (mf-yteens, inc)
***
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Noting my penchant for games, author Wet
Dream Girl (I told her that her name was somewhat
prejudicial, but who am I to judge?) suggested building
a plot around Twister, Milton Bradley's 1966 contortion
classic.
***
"The Game that Ties You Up in Knots" gave new meaning
to the phrase "contact sports". "Foreplay in a box,"
reviewers called it. Who didn't cop a feel on the
polka-dot vinyl floor mat? Johnny Carson's Tonight Show
Twister sex with peek-a-boob Eva Gabor goosed up the
sales. The original and current game boxes I've posted
at
http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Holly_Rennick/Boxes.
jpg.
And all these years later, Twister's a major sex
industry. A guy invites you over to see his bed duvet
of Twister design and your line is, "Oh, I used to play
that as a girl. How did it go?". (One disadvantage is
that it takes a third person to spin the spinner.) I
Googled full frontals of "Nude Twister". We authors are
left in the entertainment dust by "Let's Play Anal
Twistie", available from XXX video stores.
But Milton Bradley's still the place to start. Cindi
will cover the rules, objective, strategic and tactical
topics. Holly will add the story.
HOW TO PLAY
Take off your shoes and face your guy from opposite
ends of the mat. The six-row mat is better than the
original four-row.
Place one foot on the yellow dot closest to your end
and the other foot on the blue dot. The guy does the
same on his.
Spin the spinner. "Right Hand Blue", so put your right
hand on a blue dot of your choice.
Spin again and your opponent makes his move. (There's a
both-move-at-once variation, but it's too rushed.)
There can't be more than one hand or foot on any dot.
If your called-out hand or foot is already on a dot of
the called-out color, you must move it to another dot
of that color. If there's no way to get your left hand
to a yellow dot than to reach between your opponent's
legs, just say, "Hope you don't mind." If others are
watching, you can bet he'll act stone-faced.
Never remove your hand or foot from a dot, except that
you may lift a hand or foot to allow another hand or
foot to pass.
The official objective: "To outlast opponents by
stretching and entwining your body like a human pretzel
around a large vinyl sheet emblazoned with multicolored
dots, without falling down."
But disjoint your hip to win some silly acrobatic face-
off? No way, sister!
That "without falling down" was just a ruse! Of course
you may fall down.
The real objective is to have sex, but probably not on
the plastic sheet. Yuck! Or maybe just to bank a memory
for later enjoyment. Ultimately it's about sex.
You'll want a strategy. Moving toward your opponent's
portion of the mat, forcing him to go over or under
you, is pretty good. Over or under? Well we know what
we like, but if you haven't played with him before,
maybe it's best to settle for the bottom. It's not
fair, though, him being on top and you losing the
official game.
But basically, it's all about tactics. Here are a few:
Goose him for quick collapse, for example. The
official rules don't prohibit it. Of course if he
doesn't fall right away, he'll try to goose you back.
You'll both fall down and not agree who hit first,
presuming you're still concerned about the official
objective.
Use your neckline to make him forget his balance.
Use your butt to lead him toward the precarious dots.
Breathe heavily.
Don't goose him like a conquistador; just brush his
penis, make it seem accidental. He'll even twist
inadvertently to help. Keep the tease going, drawing
him further and further from a secure perch on the
vinyl.
At the end, where just a little hip bump would send
him sprawling, don't do it. Let his hope for
serendipitous masturbation lead him to flatten himself
to the plastic. It's your choice about rewarding his
acquiescence.
The game's rated "6 to Adult", so at 15 and 17, my
brother and I were OK.
THE COMPLETE GAME
"Christmas Wind-Down" is what Mom always called the
week before New Year's, a time just to enjoy not going
to school. Try out your new outfits, sneak the
remaining sweets, skate, talk on the phone. There's
lots to do.
We'd gotten Twister from Aunt Eileen and Uncle Todd.
The game looked OK, but anything given to both of us
never seemed special. Probably it would end up in the
game closet with its spinner broken. Bruce was never
careful about anything.
We'd probably have shelved the game un-tried, but for
the fact that his buddies Keith and Paul were over and
the weather was from Canada.
"Why don't you kids try that twist-up game," Mom's
suggestion. "The picture looks fun."
Normally I'd have had nothing to do with the slouches,
but I was as bored as were they.
It took us just a minute to figure out the rules and
decide to go one-on-one.
Keith and Bruce blustered against each other until
Keith landed on his ass. It looked like Bruce pushed
his friend's arm, but Paul was the referee.
Against me, Paul was a bit more clever, trying to reach
under my throat to get his left hand on green, but I
blocked his foot from a solid four-point stance and his
knee hit when he tried to get his right foot on the
same color.
Championship round, my brother tried to bridge me to
where I couldn't twist upwards, but I did. (Paul said
was almost like a reverse in wrestling.) Bruce had to
cross his feet and I got a lucky spin, needing to move
my own foot just one color outwards. The others saw
Bruce's elbow touch, trying to reach behind mine.
So I was the champ, but we played a bunch more times
and I lost my share.
The thing about Twister is that you have to ignore
getting handled. I had my bra on and winter jeans, so
it wasn't like they really felt anything. They were
just my brother's friends, anyway.
The other thing about Twister is that you pretend to
not recognize what you do to them. A guy's butt you'd
not feel without a reason. Or what's more unsettling is
wondering if you're against his dick. You'd have to be
pretty bold to reach between a guys legs in non-
competitive circumstances.
It's not really like there's usually much to bump into,
but you still wonder. It's not that much different from
wondering if they know when they're squishing your
pubic hair.
*****
"Wanna' play that game?" Bruce and I and been watching
TV after supper, Dean Martin and Sammy Davis, Jr.
trying to be funny. Christmas Wind-Down, we could stay
up late.
I right off knew of what Bruce spoke. He'd not have
suggested Monopoly. I wasn't sure, however, why he
suggested it. I sure as shootin' knew what I thought of
it, though. Every one of those guys had rubbed my tits
that afternoon. Plus I'm sure looked down my shirt, my
red flannel. I had on my Christmas-present-to-myself
bra. I loved the game!
"Sure," casually. "I'll get it."
My first clue was when he added, "The folks are
asleep."
Very true.
My second clue was how he pretended not to notice when
I undid my top button. Flannel's so hot. Nobody buttons
the top of a flannel shirt, except maybe Dad.
Spinning the spinner can be hard when you're barely
balanced, but we managed, sliding it around to keep it
within reach. He beat me first game. Elbowing my tit on
a "Right Hand Red" seemed pretty obvious, but I
pretended not to notice. Wrapping his leg around my
butt was blatant, too. At the end, he was basically
holding me up by my chest. If he'd have let go, I'd
have lost, so actually he was helping me.
We got some 7-Up and added a little white wine. The
folks wouldn't notice and it wasn't enough to get us
drunk or anything.
The guy might just as well have said, "Oh, I'm looking
at that little bluebird that was just behind your
shoulder," when I undid my second button, but I just
fanned my face.
"Again?" he challenged.
It was fun, actually, even the whispered arguments. I
suppose we each let the other win a few protests even
when we knew we were right. Maybe it was the wine or
maybe it was showing my underwear. Anyway, it was fun.
Neither of us had any idea why Dean Martin and Sammy
Davis, Jr. were toasting each other, but having the TV
going seemed prudent.
"Know what?" Bruce giggled, me just having fallen on
top of him, my knee across his pants. If he didn't
move, why should I?
"I know you fell first; that's what." I considered
jiving him about carrying a Swiss Army knife in his
front pocket, but figured he might not think it too
funny.
"Know how they play this game in college?" trying to
undo my next button.
I didn't know that they even had this game in college.
"In their underwear," answering his own question.
"Says who?"
"Says everybody."
I looked at him. "How much underwear?"
"Top and bottom," as if he really knew.
"If you don't tell," I agreed without exactly being
asked. Maybe I'd not agreed if I'd had on old panties,
but these were nice ones.
"Promise."
I'd seen my brother's underpants lots of times, but not
him stripping down to them. I suppose he'd have said
the same about mine. Sure, he'd seen my bra, but maybe
not my shirt coming off.
We must have played ten more times, at first a bit
awkwardly, but by the end, in full battle. I knew he
could sort of see my hair through the cotton, black
behind the white. And the crack of my butt. I tried for
positions where he couldn't see my front too closely,
but couldn't really stop it.
His cock was as obvious as a 5-cent Tootsie Roll. Like
me, he tried to turn, but like him, I saw anyway. It
wasn't as much that I bumped his thing in pretty much
every game as it was that he knew how I was doing it.
Plus probably more. Not that the back of your scalp can
tell something, but he might think that my hair had
feeling too. Anyway, I'd trail it on him for effect.
He was a good sport until it started to get big,
something maybe he didn't want me knowing. So I'd let
him get away. Like if my period had started, he'd have
let me escape.
But by the end, he even stopped trying to get away.
He was centered against my rear. I knew from reading
that one way to tell when a guy succumbs is when he
slips into a slow fucking motion. Even not having been
fucked myself, I knew it right off. Maybe I should have
moved my butt away, but I knew I'd already made him
really, really big. It was like I was supposed to know.
Rather than dismounting me, like he was supposed to do
to switch his left foot, he reached under my chest and
let his wrist rub up and down.
"Cheater," I challenged. "You can't move once you're
somewhere." I suppose my filling my lungs told him to
ignore me. It was in total violation of what the box
said.
"Well you're moving too," he justified, already letting
his thumb find the divide between my cups. Liar, I
decided. I wasn't moving. It was his hips that were
making me push back.
"'Cause I'm trying to escape," I lied, breathing out so
my fit would be looser.
I'd never had my nipple rubbed, except by myself. I
couldn't pay it much attention, though, the way his
cock was rubbing up my cheeks.
But when he tried to push my bra all the way up, I
decided no and fell down. The light was on and he
wasn't at all being romantic.
We both dressed quickly.
*****
We hadn't even played Twister that many times by
February, but I knew that Bruce would want to tonight.
The folks would be at bridge club till 11:00. I'd worn
the flannel shirt, but more specially, my Christmas bra
again..
I wasn't going to just give in, though. I'd still want
to twist him around a little. When you're good at
masturbating your brother, you make him earn it.
We'd come a long way, dot-to-dot like a little kid's
drawing book. The first time I masturbated him was
still Christmas Vacation, an afternoon when Mom
wouldn't be back much before Dad came home from work.
It only took a grin for us to strip to our underwear.
We were by now a little cavalier about the spinner,
making up our own moves until he'd mounted my butt, our
hips finding their rhythm, what had felt big before
made big again.
It hadn't occurred to me that he'd actually climax, but
the way he rubbed up and down wasn't unlike how I
rubbed my labia in my own bed and I could hear his
breathing. But I still didn't think he would. After
all, I was his sister!
But then again, maybe it's more comfortable with a
sister than with the flaky girlfriends he went for.
Anyway, it wasn't as if I had much choice.
And feeling my brother's wetness seep against my ass of
course affected my own arousal. Like a girl just sits
there with her butt in the air? The tug of my crotch
was enough to get me engaged, but I fell forward so he
could crease my butt as long as he wanted.
"Wow!" decreed my brother as if he'd done some great
deed, later lying on his stomach so I'd not see
whatever he didn't want me to see.
"You like?" flashing my 15-year-old temptress smile.
It's easy to be bold when you know he's spent.
*****
I learned about testicles when he had his feet on the
outside dots, his hands near the top and I was
scrunched at the bottom. He really had no choice but to
let me satisfy my curiosity.)
"Come on, you gotta' take your turn," his protest when
I opened his boxer leg from behind.
"Don't they ever get in the way?" my question.
I know my inspecting his balls gave him a huge
erection, but it was pointed the other way, and in any
case, I already knew its size.
I'd never quite reach into his underpants, but by now
was pretty bold about squeezing through. If he wanted
to play the big brother role, I'd let him rub against
me, but if he were compliant, I stroke him more gently
and he'd last longer.
*****
We were inside, watching television, our parents at
another affair. I'd somewhat bruised my hip skating
earlier that week, but I wasn't too sore.
"Wanna play?" I volunteered. Some things don't need a
lot of explanation. We'd gone through the stage where
we'd say, "play Twister," but even that now seemed
superfluous. We'd always set up the mat and start as if
we were official. My question was hardly a question.
He'd have wanted to if I'd offered in school assembly,
he was so happy to shoot a big spot into his boxers.
"Playing", of course, was Bruce coming in his
underwear, it not occurring to him that I might also. I
didn't see it as discriminatory. It was better,
actually, as a girl's private time isn't something a
brother should know much about.
I still say he should have asked first, not told me it
was new rules.
(1) A player who falls removes an item of clothing. As
only one hand or foot may be lifted at one time to do
so, the other player may help. If the spinner lands on
red, both participants remove an article.
It's more fun undressing each other than just starting
out semi-nude. If you've not seen each other naked
before, pretend like it's no big deal. Don't worry If
your brother's not as stiff as a rod; sometimes guys
just get embarrassed. Keep playing and he'll reveal
himself.
When he pulled down my panties the first time, I was
facing down so he couldn't really see. But reversing my
feet on Yellow and Blue made me face up. You should
still keep your thighs together.
(From a survey on the Web. "Have you ever played Naked
Twister? Yes, 13.51%. (70). No, but I'm willing to
learn, 79.15% (410). No way, 7.34% (38)." So we didn't
invent it, or anything.)
(2) If you want to slow it down, pretend there are
spinner instructions like, "Kiss what's closest."
I'd act like maybe I was going to smooch the middle of
his green plaid undershorts, but just kiss his hip
bone. He'd have let me do whatever.
(3) Add a little talcum powder. My idea, actually.
Especially later in the game when you're more on the
mat. Vinyl gets sticky.
(4) If the mat's rows were numbered 1-6, put your right
heel on Green-5 and your left heel on Red-5. Face
upwards with your right hands under your butt on
Yellow-3 and your left hand on Blue-3.
Bruce let me cheat and rest my elbows a little. The
real difference from (4) is that your heels are now on
the outside dots. I knew that's how you do it, but
didn't like to be told.
(5) Your brother goes above, face down, left toes on
Yellow-6 and right toes on Blue-6. His hands go under
your shoulders at Yellow-1 and Blue-1. (Confused? See
the diagram on
http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Holly_Rennick/Layout
.jpg.)
Actually, I'd rather put my hands around his back and
be on a pillow, but there's no way to fit that with the
official game. The first few times, anyway, just get
like he says so he'll think he's inventing it.
A cooperative game sounds conceptually nice, but it's
competition that keeps your libido challenged. Go back
and forth, cooperate, compete, cooperate, compete. It's
a ton of fun.
(6) Forget about the spinner.
This is the time when you want to leave your heels on
the outside dots, the green and the red.
(7) As noted earlier, "Don't fall down" is just a ruse.
He'll let you.
All those instructions make the game seem pretty
linear, though. Our first fuck was a little less
stepwise.
Probably he thought that me being naked would make
creaming more sexy for him. He'd have liked to rub his
cock on my mound and gotten me all gooey. Or maybe on
my tits. (Actually, I read that if they cream your
mound you can get pregnant! Sometimes something runs
in!)
So I just waited till the luck of the spin got us more-
or-less in the diagramed positions, the crucial
difference being that he was on the bottom, his thighs
were between my knees. "Oh, dear," I predicted. "The
spinner says for me to move two dots up, but then I'd
be sitting on your collar bone."
For all his stud-man older-brother pretense, he'd not
want my pussy shoved in is face.
"So to get there," I continued, "I'll just need to
slide over you."
Staying firmly on his thighs to immobilize him, I
lifted his erection as if I somehow I thought I could
move it aside. "Holy cow! This things as hard as a
rock. Is if for real?" in mock horror. I didn't need an
answer. "How come? You weren't planning to get me or
anything, were you? Put it some place?"
He'd turned purple, holding his breath.
"Well, the thing is, we're playing girls' rules," I
explained. If there were all these college rules and
things, surely there'd be girls' rules, too.
Oh did he struggle as I lifted myself up him just
enough to align us. He'd thought he had little sister
twisting like his sex slave, ready to bring him off
without afterwards being able to complain that he'd
swiped her virginity. Realizing at that last moment
that he'd again been reversed!
The best games are built on simple moves. Hold him nice
and steady. Push down. Viola! That simple!
A few tiny twists for tease and then compete,
cooperate, compete, cooperate.
There'd be plenty of opportunities to get fucked in
whatever pretzel shapes we got spun into. Just playing
in our underwear, we'd discovered maybe a dozen
combinations.
Plus he'd probably cream on me everyplace before we
broke the spinner.
But, Brucie, who got fucked first? Who lay there while
I went up and down, up and down? Who bounced his pretty
butt on yellow and blue? Who reached up and held my
tits? Who did Twister Sister make come when it was just
the right time for her, too? Who ended up all slobbery
slick? Who let his sister dry him off with her hair and
then trail her locks against your nose so you could
smell?
And you loved every bit of it, Brucie boy! And sure, we
need a rematch And I'll let you win a bunch, too. Scoot
me all over the dots, if you like. And we don't even
have to do it on that icky vinyl mat.
VARIETIES
But there's more to Twister than orgasms.
Three-player Twister. The third player faces the
center from the red side, a foot on each on the two
middle red dots. For close trios, I guess.
Team Twister. Two girls vs. two boys. Start side-by-
side so that all four dots are covered. Team members
can cover the same dot with one hand or foot each.
Tournament of Champions Twister. Reykjavik, Iceland.
Sanctioned by Milton-Bradley. 813 teams in 1998. So
serious.
Molson Twister. 24 by 40 foot mat. So Canadian!
Giant Twister. An inflatable mat large enough for up
to ten players. So soft!
Guinness Book of World Records Twister. The 4,160-
contestant marathon at the University of Massachusetts.
Water Twister. One person in charge of the hose.
Bedroom Twister. "Package includes: Official Twister
Duvet Cover (Double Bed Size), Two Twister Pillowcases,
Soft Double-Dice. Beware of cheap imitations!" See them
play at
http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Holly_Rennick/Sheet.
jpg.
Pen-Pal Twister. (Didn't know where to put this,
actually.) A Web pen-pal finder asks for favorite game.
Monopoly (248) is followed by football (185), chess
(144), soccer (121), spin the bottle (121), Scrabble
(115), Twister (115) and basketball (100). Spin the
bottle? The Sims (61), Playstation (46) and computer
games (39) tell us that electronic sex isn't as fun.
Shoe Polish Twister. Back in 1965, Reyn Guyer was
designing a promotion for a Johnson's Shoe Polish mail-
in. "Send a buck and a box top". Guyer was toying with
a notion of color patches on kids' shows along with a
correspondingly-colored walk-around grid, when it
occurred to him that what it might work better as a
game. Guyer sold the "Pretzel" idea to Milton-Bradley.
So enjoy being a pretzel. But thank heavens that shoe
polish is no longer involved.
END
HOLLY ON THE WEB
Wherever you found this story on the web, thank you to
the server. My problem is that I've no systematic way
to update the various servers. As literary errors (or
just poor word usages) are made known to me, I'll
repair that which is salvageable on
http://www.asstr.org/~Holly_Rennick/. My website's not
much graphically, I admit, but HTML isn't my native
language.
You can contact me via the site's message form, that
HTML code by the smart people at ASSTR.
I won't be changing the story significantly, so if you
didn't like it before, that much will remain the same.
But if you did like it, an update may read a bit more
cleanly.
Holly
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 29