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Gilligan's Island: Passion Fruit 9/12
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 9)
The Professor tied the last knots, and slid the double-sized bed towards
the wall. He had to adjust the position of his lab-table and trunk, but it
all fit. At least he didn't have to rebuild the hut.
He stood back and admired his work, thinking about the workout he wanted to
give it.
There was a tap at the door. "Professor?"
It was Mrs. Howell. He invited her in. She sat in his 'relaxing' chair,
and he perched on his lab stool.
"What can I help you with?"
"This is rather awkward, Professor," she said, almost blushing.
"Go ahead. We're all friends here," the Professor smiled.
"It's about those yellow fruits Gilligan found last week."
The Professor paused. "Yes? What about them?"
"I know what they do, Professor." She looked away from him, slightly
embarrassed. "And I want to grow some more."
"Oh?" The Professor squirmed on his stool. "Are you and Mr. Howell having
...problems?"
"Yes..." Lovey lied. "That's it exactly."
The Professor reached over and picked up the two remaining fruits from his
lab table. They had softened, and were giving off a sour fragrance.
"That's funny," he said, "I thought there were three."
Mrs. Howell grimaced.
The Professor handed them to her. He opened his botany book, and read from
the page describing the fruit.
"Looks like it should be planted in sandy soil, near a tree where the vine
can climb. That's all the information I have." He closed the book. "I
can't guarantee they'll grow, and I have no idea when the vines will bear
fruit."
"I understand, Professor," she said, smiling. "Thank you."
"You're very welcome. I hope the problems work out."
...........................................................................
Lovey went into the jungle, looking for likely spots to plant her seeds.
She found two trees close to the pathway that looked hopeful. She dug a
shallow hole next to each tree, and placed the rotting fruits in them,
covering the hole.
She kissed her fingers, then the soil. "Grow, please grow," she whispered.
...........................................................................
Thurston Howell walked along the beach.
"Damn this island," he said aloud. "Damn this beach, damn this ocean, damn
these waves, damn..."
He was so distracted by his tirade that he nearly fell over the barrel. He
kicked it. It didn't move, and he hurt his foot.
He hopped around on his good foot, holding the hurt one. He sat on the
barrel, which was lying on the sand. He massaged his toes, muttering, "and
damn this barrel."
As he worked on his sore toes, he looked down at the barrel. Stenciled on
the side of the barrel was the name "Inverness."
He looked up at the sky. "If there's a god in heaven, let this be full."
He got up and pushed at the barrel. It was very heavy, it had SOMETHING
inside.
He pushed harder, and the barrel rolled over, exposing the bung. It was
intact.
"Praise the gods!" he shouted, then clamped his hands over his mouth. He
looked around.
"I've got to find Gilligan," he muttered.
..........................................................................
Mary Ann and Ginger were in a sixty-nine position, with Ginger on top.
Ginger's lips were locked around Mary Ann's clit, her tongue dancing around
the tip of the sensitive nubbin. Mary Ann had her hands around the cheeks
of Ginger's ass, her fingertips brushing her asshole.
Mary Ann's tongue was stroking over Ginger's clit, her concentration on her
nearing orgasm. Her body began to quiver under Ginger's ministrations.
Ginger's fingers slid into Mary Ann's cunnie, pressing upward against her
g-spot. Mary Ann's body tried to levitate, as an explosive orgasm shook
her body.
As her contractions slowed, she again applied herself to Ginger's pussy,
sucking hungrily on her clit. Her fingertips approached Ginger's asshole
again, and slowly, Mary Ann slid her middle finger into Ginger's ass.
"Mmmmmmmmm," Ginger moaned, "Oh, yes."
With her other hand, Mary Ann slipped two fingers into Ginger's pussy.
Ginger raised up, pushing back against Mary Ann's hands and mouth.
"Yes... yes, that's it," she gasped, "Oh yes..."
Her body began to quiver, and a gush of cunt honey ran down Mary Ann's
face.
Ginger's orgasm shook the bed, as Mary Ann slowed her tonguing of Ginger's
clit.
Ginger got up slowly and turned around, and lay beside Mary Ann in the
narrow cot.
...........................................................................
Gilligan was sitting at the table in the compound, contemplating the basket
of fruit. Which one was he least tired of?
Mrs. Howell approached the compound. "Gilligan, there's something I want
you to do for me."
"What's that, Mrs. Howell?"
"Do you think you could find any more of that yellow fruit?"
Gilligan goggled at her for a moment, but remembered that she couldn't
possibly know what it was good for. "I'll try, Mrs. Howell," he nodded.
"Thank you." She headed for her hut.
At that moment, Mr. Howell came running up the path from the beach.
"Gilligan, dear boy. Just the man I was looking for..."
"What do you want me to do?" sighed Gilligan.
Howell looked back toward his hut. Lovey had gone inside. He dropped his
voice to a whisper. "I've made a wonderful find on the beach, and I need
your help."
"What did you find?" Gilligan asked, in a normal voice.
"Shhhhh...." hissed Howell. "Keep your voice down."
"Okay," whispered Gilligan, "what did you find?"
"A whole barrel of Inverness Scotch."
"A whole barrel?" Gilligan's voice rose to a normal level again.
"Shhhhh!" Howell hissed again.
"Sorry," whispered Gilligan.
"Come with me. I need to roll it up away from the tide, and I'll need help
to get it open."
...........................................................................
The Skipper landed his catch; a very nice, big fish. As he pulled it up
the beach, he glanced at the jungle, half expecting Robin Hood, or Tarzan,
or some other character to come popping out. But nobody did.
He pulled out his knife, and started cleaning the fish.
...........................................................................
The Professor strolled over to the girls' hut, and tapped on the door.
"Anybody home?"
"Just a minute," Ginger's voice sounded from inside. The Professor heard
some scrambling around.
Ginger jumped up, and grabbed a dress, slipping it over her head and
zipping it up. Mary Ann retrieved her shorts and slipped them on, and
buttoned her blouse.
Ginger went to the door. "Hi, Professor." She batted her eyes at him.
"I was just coming... er, going." She walked out the door, winking at Mary
Ann.
"Come on in, Roy." Mary Ann sat on the edge of the bed.
The Professor sat down next to her, and took her hand. "Mary Ann... I want
to ask... "
"Yes," she said, smiling.
"You didn't know what I want to ask."
"Yes I do, and I do." She kissed him. "Give me five minutes to pack up."
She finished in four. The Professor picked up her little bag, and they
walked hand-in-hand to his hut.
..........................................................................
Gilligan and Mr. Howell rolled the barrel up the beach to the edge of the
jungle. They tipped it up on end to keep it from rolling back down to the
water.
"I don't think the tide gets this high," Gilligan observed.
"Good. Now, how to open it."
Gilligan smiled and picked up the tool box. "I know how to open barrels."
He took out the hammer, and took aim at the top.
"Wait! NO!" Howell shouted, and grabbed the hammer. "If you break the top,
we can't close it back up!" He leaned over and looked in the tool box. He
picked up a brace and bit.
"Now, this will make a small hole that we can plug up." He set the tip of
the bit on the top of the barrel-end, and Gilligan started to turn the
brace.
...........................................................................
The Skipper wrapped his fish filets in a sailcloth towel, and headed to the
compound. Suspiciously, he looked all around him as he walked, half
expecting to be accosted by some imaginary character.
...........................................................................
The hole was bored through. Gilligan pulled out the bit, and Howell leaned
over to sniff the contents.
"Heavenly," Howell sighed. "It's Scotch, all right." Then he frowned.
"But how do we get it out of the barrel?"
"I could still smash the top," suggested Gilligan.
Howell just frowned at him.
"The Professor uses a kind of vine for tubing in his lab. Maybe we could
find some."
"Good idea. Go look for some. I'll just sniff for a while."
Gilligan dashed into the jungle. He was looking for the vine that the
Professor used, but a flash of yellow caught his eye. He stopped and
looked closer. It was another vine-full of yellow fruits, just like the
ones he found before!
He marked the place in his mind, and went looking for the tubing-vine. He
found some, and pulled it down. Using his pocket knife, he cut off the
leaves from a length of it, and took it back to Howell.
Howell was standing over the barrel, his nose pressed against the hole.
"So near and yet so far," he sighed.
Gilligan handed him the vine, and Howell lowered one end into the barrel.
He placed the other end between his lips and sucked.
"Like drinking through a straw," Gilligan noted.
The fluid finally reached Howell's mouth. He filled his mouth, then
pinched the end of the vine. He swirled the liquid around his mouth, then
swallowed.
"Ambrosia," he said, "Nectar!" He raised his eyes to the sky. "Thank
you!"
"You're welcome," said Gilligan.
...........................................................................
Ginger walked toward the compound table, just as the Skipper brought up his
load of fish.
"I'll take that, Skipper," she said, and he handed over his bundle.
"Thanks, Ginger." He stopped to wipe his brow, and said, "I'm going to go
up to the waterfall and wash up."
He started up the path to the sweetwater pool. Ginger took the fish over
by the fireplace, and added some wood to the coals still smouldering there.
Flames started to appear around the new wood.
...........................................................................
"Gilligan, dear boy, go back to my hut and get a couple of empty bottles,"
Howell said, sipping from his straw.
"Sure, Mr. Howell."
"Oh... If Lovey is there, don't let her see you."
"Okay." Gilligan started back toward the compound, but remembered the
fruits. He doubled back into the jungle and located the vine. He picked
three of the yellow fruits, and rolled them up in his shirt. Then he
headed back toward the compound.
..........................................................................
The Professor and Mary Ann entered his hut... their hut. The Professor led
her over to show her the new bed.
"Oh, Roy," she said, "you expected me to say yes!"
The Professor nodded.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Let's break it in," she whispered,
huskily.
...........................................................................
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