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Gilligan's Island: Passion Fruit 8/12
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 8)
Morning.
The seven castaways headed for the outhouses and the sweetwater pool for
their morning cleanup.
The Professor and Mary Ann passed each other on the path. "Good morning,
Roy," Mary Ann said, smiling.
"'Morning," the Professor smiled back.
She took his hand and leaned forward to kiss him lightly. "Thanks for last
night," she whispered. "It was great!" She continued toward the pool.
The Professor was staggered; the juice was supposed to work on her
memory...
Gilligan was just coming out of the outhouse as Ginger approached. She
slipped one hand under Gilligan's balls and kissed him lightly on the
cheek. "Hi, Stud Muffin!"
"H-h-hello!" Gilligan stammered and stumbled.
She moved past him into the outhouse and closed the door. Gilligan ran
toward the other outhouse, where the Professor was just emerging.
"It didn't work," he gasped.
"What are you talking about?"
"Ginger remembered! The juice didn't work!"
"Of course it worked... You got laid, didn't you?" The Professor smiled.
"Maybe it's better this way, anyhow."
"Why's that?"
"This way we can make love with the girls any time we want. We don't have to
rely on the fruit."
"Oh, yeah." Gilligan smiled. "Right."
They walked up the path to join the others at the pool.
...........................................................................
Lovey watched the others as they played together in the water. It was
obvious that the younger folks were getting to know each other as lovers.
Her eyes widened as she thought, "They remember! They weren't supposed to
remember!"
The Skipper arrived at the pool. "Good morning, Mrs. Howell."
"Good morning, Captain," she smiled. "And how did you sleep last night?"
"I went to bed right after supper," he said, "and I slept like a baby all
night."
Lovey heaved a sigh of relief. He didn't remember! She puzzled over it in
her mind, until she came to a sudden realization. It's not the juice of the
fruit that works, it's the pulp!
She would have to talk to the Professor about that... someday.
...........................................................................
ACT THREE
...........................................................................
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.
Ginger turned around under the waterfall, and stuck her head through the
flow. "Gilligan!" she shouted. "Get your ass over here right now!"
Gilligan stood up and ran down to the pool. He pulled off his clothes and
waded to the waterfall. Ginger reached through the flow of water and
grabbed his hand, pulling him under the falls to the little alcove
underneath.
Ginger wrapped her arms around him, drawing him into a passionate kiss,
rubbing her wet, naked body against him.
She reached down and grabbed his penis, stroking its length. She lowered
herself in the water, pulling him down on top of her.
Gilligan kissed her breasts, as she guided his cock to the entrance to her
pussy. He pressed it inside her, and she moaned with pleasure, taking his
full length easily. He began slow, easy strokes, the resistance of the
water making his movements easier and slower.
Ginger's clit pressed against the base of his cock with each stroke, and
she gasped every time he pressed against it.
"Oh, gosh," she whispered, "I'm coming..."
Her pussy grabbed at his cock as her body shook, with a warm glow flowing
from her pussy though the rest of her body.
Gilligan pumped twice more, and with the pressure from her orgasmic pussy,
he began to ejaculate inside her. He kissed her lips, as they caught their
breath.
They stood up, finally. Ginger picked up her bar of coconut-butter soap,
and they lathered each other up, giggling and laughing.
...........................................................................
Roy Hinkley, "The Professor", was making his bed.
Literally making his bed. He had gathered some nice pieces of bamboo, and
was busily making a double-sized bed.
Whistling as he worked, he was also trying to decide just how to approach
Mary Ann about moving in with him. Making love in the moonlight in the
great outdoors was great, but the rainy season was approaching.
...........................................................................
The Skipper was whistling, too, as he cast his fishing line into the surf.
He waited for a nibble, holding the fishing rod braced against his belly.
A strange, yet familiar voice sounded behind him.
"Welcome to Sherwood."
He turned to see a man all in green perched on a fallen treetrunk. He was
carrying a huge bow, and a quiver of arrows on his back.
He blinked twice, almost dropping his fishing rod. "Robin Hood?"
"None other," the man in green said, grinning. "You look very familiar.
Are you not the son of one of my merry men?"
"No," the Skipper shook his head. "Not that I know of."
"Strange," Robin said. He looked at the Skipper's fishing rod. "Fishing?
Is there no game in the forest?"
"Not that we've been able to find," the Skipper said. "How did you get
here? Are you our rescue?"
"Rescue? From Sherwood?"
"This is NOT Sherwood. It's an island in the South Pacific." The Skipper
reeled in his line and set the fishing rod aside.
"South... Pacific? It looks like Sherwood..." Robin turned and looked
around. "But then again..."
"Believe me," the Skipper said, "it's not England. Do you have a boat?"
Robin shook his head.
"A plane? A helicopter?"
Robin shook his head. Suddenly, he stood still. "Hark!"
"What is it..."
Robin placed a hand over the Skipper's mouth, silencing him. "A deer!" he
whispered, "A fine stag to make a man's dinner."
He nocked an arrow into the bow, and climbed over the fallen tree and into
the jungle.
Moments later, Mr. Howell walked out of the jungle onto the beach. The
Skipper was staring into the jungle.
"Captain..."
"Did you see him?"
"See who?" Howell frowned.
"Robin Hood."
"Captain, have you been raiding my liquor cabinet?"
...........................................................................
Mary Ann looked around the hut at her few meager possessions. She sat down
on the cot, considering how quickly she could pack them all away if the
Professor asked her the question she wanted him to ask. Five minutes,
maybe less.
"But what about Ginger? Would she be all alone in this hut if I moved in
with the Professor? Or would Gilligan move in here with her?" she thought.
"And that would leave the Skipper alone... oh, my... how complicated."
Ginger walked in, wrapped in her towel. She had been to the waterfall
again. And from the glow in her face, it looked like she had been there
with someone.
"Talking to yourself again?" Ginger grinned.
"Was I?" Mary Ann blushed. "I've been doing a lot of thinking."
"About the Professor?" Ginger sat on the other cot, facing her. "Has he
asked you yet?"
Mary Ann shook her head. Ginger reached over and took her hand.
"He will. Don't worry." Ginger looked into Mary Ann's eyes. "And if he
does, do it. Don't worry about me."
Mary Ann reached out and took Ginger into her arms. "Thanks."
Ginger's towel fell away. "In the meantime,..." she cooed.
...........................................................................
Gilligan sat down on a log near a clearing in the jungle. He sat in a
position like Rodin's "The Thinker", his chin resting on his fist, his
elbow on his knee.
He was considering his relationship with Ginger. He loved her, he really
did. Or was it just lust? Did he want to live the rest of his life with
her, or was it that she was available, and here, and ...
His vision blurred, and he blinked. Next to him on the log was a
golden-haired fellow, about his same age. He blinked again. The fellow
was still there.
"Hi, Maynard, old buddy." The golden-haired fellow grinned.
Gilligan sat up. "Maynard?"
"Hey, where's your goatee?"
Gilligan rubbed his chin.
"What's wrong, Maynard?"
"My name is Gilligan. Who are you?"
"You mean you don't recognize your oldest friend? It's Dobie" The fellow
laughed. "And you're Maynard."
"Gilligan," he said. "My name is Gilligan."
"It's Maynard, and I'll prove it. Watch this... 'work' "
A shiver ran up Gilligan's spine. He shook it off.
"See there," Dobie said. "You're Maynard."
Gilligan shook his head.
"Well, whatever, old buddy," Dobie grinned. "What's on your mind?"
"Ummm," Gilligan squirmed. "I guess I can tell you since you're
imaginary."
"Who's imaginary?" Dobie grinned. "Que pasa?"
"It's a girl," Gilligan said.
"I figured that," Dobie smiled. "Why else would I be here?"
"I'm not sure what I feel for her. Is it love or is it lust?"
"Does it matter?"
Gilligan looked at him. "Of course it matters."
"Okay. Do you want to be with her even when you've got your clothes on?"
"Yeah."
"Then it's probably love. Go for it."
Gilligan glanced away. "Go for it?"
There was silence. He looked back, and Dobie was gone.
He sat there a moment longer. "Go for it...."
...........................................................................
Lovey Howell adjusted her makeup in the small mirror. She had managed to
get Thurston out of the hut for a while, anyway. He needed to get some
fresh air, and away from the liquor cabinet for a few hours.
She adjusted her clothing; it was getting a bit tattered with the years of
wear. Thank goodness she had brought all of the trunks she had; she pitied
the poor younger girls who only had a few outfits.
And the Captain and Gilligan had only one set of clothes, since they had
expected to be home that night so long ago.
When they wore out their clothes, I guess they'd have to go naked...
Thinking of the Captain naked brought a sly grin to her face. That might
not be so bad after all.
She headed out the door toward the Professor's hut. She needed to talk
with him about the fruits.
...........................................................................
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