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Gilligan's Island: Passion Fruit 4/12
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
GILLIGAN'S ISLAND: "Passion Fruit" (Part 4)
The Professor lay in Mary Ann's arms. Suddenly he was very sleepy... He sat
up, a little dizzy.
"What's wrong?" Mary Ann sat up next to him, and held her head. "Oh, I'm
dizzy!"
"Me too," the Professor nodded. "I think I'd better go back to my hut."
"Why not stay here with me? Ginger won't mind..."
"No, I'd better go." He got up, and stumbled around the room, picking up his
clothing. He leaned over Mary Ann's bed and kissed her again.
"Knock Knock," Ginger's voice from the door.
"I was just leaving," the Professor said.
"I was just coming," grinned Ginger. "I feel a little dizzy... I think I need
to lie down a while."
She turned and kissed Gilligan. "Good-night, sweetie."
"Good-night, Ginger," said Gilligan, with a smile. "See you in the morning."
The Professor rose from Mary Ann's side and headed for the door, his bare ass
flashing in the moonlight.
"Good-night, Roy."
"Good-night."
Ginger lay back in her bed, and like Mary Ann, slipped into a deep sleep.
........................................................................
The Professor stumbled naked back to his hut and fell into his cot, immediately
dropping into a sound, dreamless sleep.
........................................................................
Gilligan felt drunk; or maybe on the heaving deck of a ship. He weaved back an
forth, tripping over his own feet. Finally making it back to the hut he shared
with the Skipper, he climbed into the upper hammock, and passed out.
........................................................................
The Skipper and Mrs. Howell walked hand in hand back to the compound. They
stepped up to the Howell's hut and Lovey peeked inside.
"He's still asleep," she whispered. She leaned over and kissed the Captain's
lips. "Good-night, sweet Skipper," she said with a smile.
The Skipper watched her close the door behind her, then sauntered toward his
hut. As he reached the doorway, a wave of dizziness hit him. He stumbled into
the door, glancing up at the upper hammock, noting that Gilligan was already
asleep, and wouldn't be asking any questions about where he was all evening.
He dropped into the lower hammock, and blackness overtook him.
........................................................................
Thurston Howell was still sitting in his lounge chair. Lovey walked over to he
husband, and shook his shoulder. "Thurston," she said, softly, "come to bed,
dear."
Thurston opened his eyes halfway, taking in a view of Lovey's transparent
nightie and breasts.
"Time for nookie?"
"Not tonight dear," she said. "I'm a little dizzy. But you shouldn't sleep in
the chair."
They climbed into the bed, Thurston cuddling up to Lovey's nearly naked body.
She reached down and grabbed his teddy bear, and tucked it under his arm. She
lay her head back on the pillow, remembering the wonderfully large cock of the
Captain, and drifted into dreamless sleep.
........................................................................
Morning. Seven sleepy castaways woke up and wandered toward the sweetwater poo
to wash up. They looked at each other and smiled, not knowing exactly why.
There was a sense of puzzlement that rushed between them.
"Skipper, what happened after supper last night?" Gilligan said, finally.
"Y'know, Little Buddy, I don't remember anything after supper at all. I must
have gone to bed early..."
"I don't remember anything after supper either," Mary Ann said. "We washed the
dishes... and then I guess I went to bed, because that's the last thing I
remember."
"Me too," Ginger said.
"I was working on the radio, then the next thing I remember is waking up this
morning..." The Professor scratched his head.
"Thurston and I went to bed right after supper, too," Mrs. Howell said. She
thought to herself, "and Thurston must have tried to screw me in my sleep,
because I'm a little sore down there."
........................................................................
A few days later:
Gilligan was crouching in the bushes, peering through the foliage, as Ginger
waded into the sweetwater pool under the waterfall.
Her back was toward him as she moved under the waterfall. He saw her drop her
clothing and caught a glimpse of her bare ass before it was covered with the
white water.
"C'mon, Ginger, turn around," he whispered. "Turn around..."
He reached down into his pants and gripped his penis, already erect. He pulled
it out and stroked it, watching the shadowy image of Ginger's naked bottom
through the flowing water.
"Gosh," Gilligan whispered, "I'd like to fuck her some day..."
........................................................................
ACT TWO
........................................................................
His eyes unfocused a moment as a memory tried to force its way through his
mind. There was a vague image of a naked Ginger on the beach at the lagoon
and him falling on top of her...
A splash brought his attention back to the waterfall, as Ginger turned
around under the flowing water.
He gulped as he got a clear view of her pink-nippled breasts, full and
smooth. The nipples looked like they were hard. Down below, her red pubic
hair flashed at him. He stroked his cock harder at the sight.
She turned around again, her ass covered by the white water from the
waterfall again.
"Nnnnnnggghhhh!" He came, white semen spurting from the end of his cock,
landing on the leaves in front of him.
He clamped his hand over his mouth, hoping Ginger hadn't heard his moan.
He peeped out at the waterfall again. Ginger was out of the water, her
towel wrapped around her lovely body. He ducked down, peeking between the
leaves until he saw her walk away from the pool.
Then he tucked his penis back into his pants, and headed back toward the
compound.
.....................................................................
The Professor looked over his bookshelf. He was trying to identify a plant
he had found in the jungle. He pulled down his botany book, and flipped it
open.
The book opened to the page with the yellow fruit Gilligan had found last
week. His eyes scanned the text again. Hmm... what was this footnote?
He flipped to the reference page given, and read, growing more interested.
......................................................................
Thurston Howell was hungover. He moaned, and sat up. "Lovey..."
He glanced around. His wife was not in the hut. He struggled up to his
feet and headed to the door. He staggered, his head pounding. Halfway to
the door, he turned around. "Hair of the dog..." he mumbled, and staggered
over to his liquor cabinet.
He uncorked a bottle and held it to the light. "Damned fruit punch," he
muttered, and tilted the bottle to his lips.
.....................................................................
Mary Ann opened the door to the outhouse and stepped out.
She checked herself to make sure she had zipped her shorts. She did a
little stretch to the left and right, and headed down the path for her
daily power walk.
.....................................................................
Captain Grumby sat on the beach by the lagoon, looking out to sea. He
sighed. "A seaman without a ship," he muttered, "is like a fish without
fins..." He stared out at the vast expanse of the ocean, wishing and
wanting. His eyelids began to get heavy, and he yawned widely.
"I think I'll take a little nap," he thought, and tipped his cap over his
eyes. He lay back against a palm tree, and dozed off.
The faint sound of a motor awakened him.
He spotted a dot on the horizon, and it caught his attention. His eyes
were still sharp for unusual phenomena on the ocean.
The dot grew bigger. "My gosh," he thought, "it's a boat!"
He stood up. He waved his arms. He tried to shout, but his voice was caught i
his throat.
The small boat roared up into the lagoon, and spun around in a hot-dogging
circle.
Then it slid quietly up to the shore. The Skipper waded out to it.
At the wheel of the boat was a man in a crisp blazer. A banjo lay nearby.
He looked vaguely familiar to the Skipper, but he could not quite place
him.
The man at the wheel shut down the roaring engine.
"Thank heavens!" the Skipper gasped. "We're rescued!"
"I wouldn't count on that," the man said, gruffly. "Do you know who I am?"
"You look a little familiar. You look a little like Dick Van Dyke."
"A little familiar," the man repeated, sarcastically. "Yeah."
He stood up and walked over to the side of the boat. "My name is Jerry Van
Dyke. Dick is my brother."
"Pleased to meet you. I'm the Captain of the Minnow..."
"I know all that. I was supposed to be Gilligan."
"What?"
"I turned down being Gilligan so that my mother could be a car," Van Dyke
grimaced. "Now nobody knows who I am."
The Skipper shook his head, puzzled. "We don't care who you are, we're just
happy to be rescued." The Captain smiled. "Let me go get the others!"
"Never mind, I didn't come for that!" Van Dyke said, and sat back behind the
wheel of his boat. He turned the key and the engine roared to life.
"Wait!"
But it was too late, the boat was backing away. The Skipper tried to hold
on, but he fell away, splashing on his face into the lagoon.
He stood up, dripping. The boat turned, and roared away, then circled
back.
"The only consolation is that at least I won't be on this island forever.
Maybe I can get a job as an assistant Coach somewhere."
The boat roared off again. The Skipper stared at the dot until it
disappeared over the horizon.
The Skipper waded back to shore, and sat under the palm tree, exhausted and
wet. He stared at the horizon where the boat had disappeared.
He must have dozed off. He awoke, his clothing perfectly dry. Had it just
been a dream?
.....................................................................
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