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 in 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.”
“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.
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?
Mrs. Howell had found a section of the beach that none of the others ever visited. Glancing around, she took off her clothes, lying naked on the sand in the sunshine.
She sighed, remembering her college days and the halfback of the football team. He had a penis the diameter of the wide end of a baseball bat, and he had taken her in the woods behind the dorm…
She frowned. What the hell had brought that memory to mind?
Her hands reached up to her breasts; her nipples were erect. She stroked them a moment, then reached down to her crotch. She fingered her clit, surprised at its sensitivity. Her labia were wet.
She began to rub her clit, her fingers dipping into her cunt for lubrication. “Mmmmmm,” she moaned.
She stopped suddenly, sitting up. What was she doing? She looked up and down the beach, suddenly embarrassed at herself. She stood up and put her clothing back on.
Fully dressed again, she sat back down on the sand and looked out to sea. Where was that halfback now?
She shook her head. Why these thoughts? Why now?
Thurston had been a good husband. He wasn’t good in bed, but he did have money. They had a son, before Thurston had become such a drunk, and had lost much of his interest in sex.
She shook her head sadly, staring out at the ocean, and sighed.
Ginger was back in her hut, deciding which of her clothing to wear. She stood naked in front of her closet, moving the bamboo hangers back and forth, looking at the limited wardrobe.
She decided on a little blue number that accented her long legs. She slipped it on, not bothering with underwear. Who cared? Three unattached men on the island, and no one bothered to look at her any more… nobody but Gilligan, who peeped at her when she was taking a shower.
She sat down on the cot. The dress was split up to the hip, and it fell open, showing her bare thighs. She looked down at them, wishing for a pair of pantyhose; all her hose had worn out years ago.
She ran her fingers along the insides of her thighs, feeling the soft skin. She really should exercise like Mary Ann, but it had always seemed like too much work.
Her fingers touched her red pubic hair. She spread her legs a little, her fingers finding the outer lips of her pussy. She turned on the bed, and lay back, raising and separating her knees. The dress fell aside. She reached down, stroking her clitoris. Her outer lips opened, and some moisture dribbled down her slit.
She plunged a finger deep into her pussy, while with the other hand, she kept pressure on her clit. “mmmmmmmmm,” she moaned.
The Professor put the book on the shelf. A strange little smile on his face, he stepped to the door of his hut. He looked toward the compound for Gilligan, but nobody seemed to be around.
He headed for the jungle path toward the sweetwater pool.
Mary Ann stopped along the beach, puffing. She stretched and twisted, working out some tight muscles.
She looked up and down the beach. Seeing no one, she stripped off her blouse and shorts, and dashed into the surf. She swam out a short distance, and rolled over on her back, letting the water bob her up and down with the gentle waves.
“Gilligan, I’ve been looking for you,” the Professor said.
Gilligan, startled, turned around to face the Professor. “What did I do now?”
The Professor smiled. “Nothing, Gilligan. I just wanted to know where you found those yellow fruits last week.”
“Oh. Just over there,” Gilligan pointed.
“Show me,” the Professor smiled, “Please.”
“Sure, Professor! This way.”
Gilligan led the Professor down the path, over a small rise, and up to the tree, where the leafy vine was.
“I picked most of ‘em last week, though.”
The Professor looked up the tree. “Looks like there are some up there.”
“Yeah,” Gilligan grinned. “I couldn’t reach them.”
“Let me boost you up,” the Professor said. “Try to pick some more.”
Gilligan shrugged. “Okay.”
The Professor leaned against the tree, and interlaced his fingers together. Gilligan put his foot into the Professor’s hands, and the Professor lifted him, pushing Gilligan up the tree.
Gilligan quickly gathered the fruits he could now reach, tucking them into his shirt.
“I got ‘em all, Professor.” Gilligan called.
The Professor lowered Gilligan back to the ground. Gilligan emptied his shirt into a sailcloth napkin that the Professor held out for him.
“What are you going to do with them?” Gilligan asked.
“Can you keep a secret?” the Professor asked. Then he smiled. “Look who I’m asking!”
“Who, me? What kind of secret?”
“Tell me, Gilligan,” the Professor said, putting an arm around Gilligan’s shoulder. “Have you ever thought about having sex with Ginger or Mary Ann?”
Mary Ann swam back to shore and lay on the sand, the sun baking down on her bare skin. She closed her eyes, slipping away from the beach in her mind, back to her home in the States, down on the farm.
A sudden shadow passed over her face, and her eyes snapped open. Looking down at her was Ginger.
“A good thing one of the men wasn’t the one to find you this way,” Ginger smiled.
“I’m not sure about that,” Mary Ann sighed. “I’d love to have a man look at me as more than a friend.”
Ginger sank down to the sand beside her. “I know what you mean. Back in Hollywood, if I didn’t have two or three men a week, I thought I would go crazy. Here, it’s been four years since…”
Mary Ann rolled over on her side to face Ginger. “Did you have some strange dreams this week?”
“Dreams? Like what?”
“Well,” her forehead crinkled. “I had a dream that I slept with the Professor.”
“Oh,” Ginger smiled. “That kind of dream.”
Mary Ann nodded.
“Yeah,” Ginger nodded in assent. “I’ve had dreams like that this week, too.”
“With the Professor?”
Ginger laughed. “Believe it or not, my dreams featured Gilligan.”
Mary Ann laughed. “So how was it? In your dreams, I mean.”
“In my dreams, he’s got a cock about this long,” Ginger smiled, holding her hands apart about a foot. “And he’s gentle, and loving, and I come over and over again.”
Mary Ann grinned. “Same with my dreams, except it’s the Professor.” She rolled over on her back again, and reached up to tweak her nipples between her fingers. “The dreams are nice, but…”
“But they’re just dreams. I know.”
Ginger reached up and released the shoulder of her dress, and let it drop down, revealing her pink-nippled breasts. She stroked her nipples, letting her fingertips caress them, bringing them to erection.
“Mary Ann,” Ginger whispered, “do you trust me?”
Mary Ann opened her eyes and looked into Ginger’s. “Sure.”
Ginger crawled around to Mary Ann’s legs. She gently separated them and moved between them. She caressed Mary Ann’s thighs, sliding her fingers down the outside, then up the inside, her thumbs just touching Mary Ann’s labia.
“Oh!” gasped Mary Ann. “What are you doing?”
“Trust me,” Ginger whispered. She leaned forward, and kissed Mary Ann’s dark pubic hair, her tongue darting out to taste. She moved farther down, her tongue brushing over her clit, to the taut lips below.
“Oh gosh, Ginger…”
Mary Ann lifted her knees, and Ginger leaned in, pushing her tongue between Mary Ann’s labia, tasting her cunt juices.
“Mmmmmm,” Mary Ann moaned, her eyes closed. “That feels so good.”
Ginger moved up to caress Mary Ann’s clit with her tongue, as she moved her fingers up to the entrance to Mary Ann’s pussy. She spread her labia wide, revealing the pink interior. She licked and sucked at Mary Ann’s clit, as she pushed first one, then two fingers into her love hole.
“Ginger… ummmmmmmmm.” Mary Ann lifted her head and looked down at the redhead as she sucked at her crotch.
Mrs. Howell walked back toward the compound. Thurston would be getting up now, all hung over, and he’d need her help to get dressed. He could never pick out his own clothing…
She passed behind the Professor’s hut. The Professor was giving Gilligan a lecture about something. She stopped a moment to listen.
“See, Gilligan, right here in the book. This is the fruit you found.” The Professor pointed at the page. “And this is a reference to…” he flipped the pages. “…this page. Read this.”
“Fruits of this genus…” Gilligan started.
“To yourself,” the Professor said.
“Oh. Okay.” Gilligan read the reference, his lips moving.
“What’s an aphro… aphro…”
“Aphorodesiac. It’s a sexual stimulant. Strange that this note should even appear in this book, but the report is based on some native folk medicine.”
Outside, Mrs. Howell listened intently.
“Do you remember last week, when we ate the fruits in the pie? Do you remember what happened after supper?”
“We all went to sleep.”
“That’s all we remember. See, right here. The fruit also has an effect on memory. Short term memory is erased.”
“So?” Gilligan looked puzzled.
“Don’t you get it? We might have screwed ourselves silly last week, and then forgot all about it.”
“Nawwwww! If I had screwed anybody, especially Ginger, I’d remember it.”
“Not under the influence of this.” He picked up one of the yellow fruits. If everyone ate these, we would all be stimulated sexually, we would screw our brains out, and then not remember it in the morning.”
Gilligan looked puzzled. “What’s the point in doing it if you can’t remember it?”
“That’s what I wanted the fruits for. I’ve got this plan. If I slip some of the juice from these fruits into Ginger and Mary Ann’s drinks, they would get stimulated.”
“We’re already stimulated. We don’t need the juice. We can have our way with them, and then in the morning, they would have forgotten…”
“But we’d remember!”
Gilligan and the Professor looked at each other conspiratorially.
Mrs. Howell smiled, and walked on toward her hut.
Thurston Howell was staggering around the hut in his underwear, his liquor bottle clutched in one hand, his teddy bear in the other.
Lovey opened the door and stepped in. “Thurston, are you drinking again?”
“Bit of the hair of the dog,” slurred Mr. Howell. “Where’ve you been?”
“I’ve been for a walk,” Lovey said. She stepped over to the closet and pulled out some clothing. “Here, put these on.”
Thurston set down his bottle and struggled into his trousers and shirt. He reached for the bottle again, but Lovey snatched it away from him.
“No more this morning,” she said, crossly. “Now get out there and take in some sunlight. It’ll be good for you.”
“I take after Dracula,” Howell muttered. “Sunlight is hazardous to my health.”
“Get out there, or…”
“I’m going, I’m going…” Howell staggered out the door.
Mrs. Howell put a cork in the bottle, and stashed it back in Thurston’s cabinet. She sat down at her dressing table, and looked at herself in the mirror.
“Now. If the Professor and Gilligan were fooling around with Ginger and Mary Ann, and Thurston was passed out like he always is, then the only person who could have been with me was… the Captain.” She winked at herself in the mirror.
“I do remember how sore I was the next morning. The Captain must be hung like my halfback.” She turned in her chair, thinking aloud. “I’ve got to get some of that fruit.”
Mary Ann was coming.
“Nnnnnnngggggghh!” she gasped, “Oooooooooohhhh!”
She shook her head from side to side, her fingers pinching her nipples, her pelvis tilting forward and back against Ginger’s fingers, tongue and jaw.
Ginger sat back, lifting her head from Mary Ann’s crotch, leaving her fingers inside her pussy.
Mary Ann collapsed against the sand. Ginger crawled up beside her, and lay her head on Mary Ann’s breast. She kept her hand where it was. Mary Ann squeezed her legs together, holding Ginger’s hand in place.
“Gosh, that was good,” Mary Ann whispered. “Who needs men?”
“Men are good for some things, though.”
“Yeah, somebody’s got to open the pickle jars.”
Ginger giggled. “On the other hand, there’s nothing feels as good as a hard cock…”
“Well, try this,” Mary Ann said, pushing Ginger over onto her back. She reached down and pushed Ginger’s legs apart and slipped down between them.
The Skipper was collecting shellfish for supper. He was up to his knees in the water, bending over, fumbling through the sandy bottom for them.
Mrs. Howell had just strolled to the lagoon, and spotted him. She stood, admiring the view of the Skipper’s rear end, imagining that she could see his sex organs hanging down under it.
“Yoo hoo, Captain!” Mrs. Howell called.
The Skipper straightened up, his hands full of shells. “Oh, hello, Mrs. Howell.”
“Do you need some help with that?”
The Skipper looked at her. “In all the years we’ve been here on this island, this is the first time you’ve offered help.”
As he said it, a sliver of a memory of one other time… no… that must have been a dream.
Lovey smiled at him. “There’s a first time for everything.”
She rolled up her pant legs, and waded out into the lagoon toward the Skipper. He moved toward her. When they reached each other, the Skipper handed her the shells he had collected, and turned back to get more.
She watched him bend over again, wanting to reach out and caress his bottom. She turned, reluctantly taking her eyes from his ass, and took the shells to shore.
The Professor held the flask to the light, swirling the clear juice. “Very nice,” he said, turning to Gilligan.
They had mashed the fruits, and strained the juice using an improvised centrifuge. The fruits had produced a little over 30 cubic centimeters of juice.
“Why didn’t you use all the fruit?” Gilligan asked, holding up the three remaining yellow globes.
“Simple,” the Professor smiled. “Seeds.”
“Oh.” Gilligan set the fruits back on the Professor’s lab table. “Oh! I get it. We can plant these and grow more.”
The Professor nodded and smiled. “We’re all ready for tonight.”
Ginger looked down her body at the dark-haired Mary Ann, who had her face buried in Ginger’s pussy.
“Oh gosh… mmmmmmm,” she moaned.
Mary Ann raised her eyes, looking up at Ginger, her lips fastened around Ginger’s clit, her fingers inside her pussy.
Ginger raised up on her elbows, and threw her head back. Her body was shaking, and she rolled her pelvis against Mary Ann’s mouth.
“Oh! Oh!” she gasped, “Yes… yes… yesssss”
Her body seemed to explode, a rolling wave of orgasm sweeping over her. She collapsed to the sand. Mary Ann crawled up her body, kissing her way up Ginger’s torso, pausing a moment at her breasts, then proceeding on to kiss her lips.
They lay together, wordlessly, exhausted on the sand.
The Skipper and Mrs. Howell carried the baskets of shellfish to the compound, setting it on the table in their cooking area. They looked around for Ginger or Mary Ann.
Not finding them, the Captain gathered some firewood to start a pot boiling to steam the shellfish.
“I’ll be back after a while,” Mrs. Howell said, gently.
The Skipper nodded, absently.
Mrs. Howell walked past her own hut, listening to hear Thurston mumbling to himself. He was back inside the hut again, probably drinking.
She walked quietly to the Professor’s hut. She tapped at the door. “Professor?”
There was no answer. She pushed the door open and crept inside. She looked around, and spotted the bright yellow fruits on the lab table. She slipped one of the fruits into her bra, between her breasts.
She slipped back out the door, and closed it behind her.
Ginger and Mary Ann walked into the ‘kitchen’.
“Let us take over now, Skipper,” Mary Ann smiled.
“Okay,” he nodded, and wandered back toward the lagoon.
After supper that evening, Ginger and Mary Ann got up to fetch desert. The Professor nodded at Gilligan. He then picked up the pitcher and refilled all of their drinking cups. Gilligan distracted the others, while the Professor slipped some of his juice into Ginger and Mary Ann’s cups.
The girls returned with another banana creme pie. The Professor and Gilligan smiled as they watched Mary Ann and Ginger drain their cups.
The Professor volunteered to help Mary Ann with the dishes. She looked at him with a strange expression on her face.
They cleared the table, and carried them to the washtub.
Mr. Howell yawned, and said “I think I need a drink.” He got up and headed toward his hut.
“Thurston,” Mrs. Howell said, then she got up and followed him to their hut.
Gilligan looked across the table at Ginger. She batted her eyes at him.
“Did you want to say something, Gilligan?” she asked.
“W-W-Would you like to take a walk?” Gilligan stammered.
“Why would I want to walk with you?” Ginger pried.
“There’s something down at the beach I want to show you.”
“Oh,” Ginger smiled. “Well, okay then…”
Gilligan scrambled to his feet. Ginger got up gracefully. The two of them walked off toward the lagoon, leaving the Skipper alone at the table.
The Skipper sat there for several minutes, picking his teeth. Soon he began to hear a sound something like a moose with a head cold. Mr. Howell must have fallen asleep.
The Skipper smiled and shook his head. How could his wife have stood that all these years?
He turned around and leaned back against the table, his toothpick stuck in the corner of his mouth. He looked up at the starry sky.
“All I ask is a tall ship, and a star to steer her by,” he muttered.
The door to the Howells’ hut opened, and Lovey stepped out. She looked over to the table and spotted the Skipper. She strolled up and sat down beside him on the bench.
“He’s unusually loud tonight,” the Skipper commented.
They sat silently for a few minutes.
The Skipper looked up at the stars. While he was looking away, Lovey quietly slipped the yellow fruit out of her bra and put it into the fruit basket on the table.
The Professor and Mary Ann worked quietly, the Professor washing, Mary Ann drying the dishes. Every once in a while they would look at each other and smile.
The dishes finally done, the Professor dried his hands. He turned to Mary Ann.
“Would you like to take an after-dinner stroll?”
Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight. “Sure.”
They walked together slowly down the path toward the sweetwater pool. About halfway there, Mary Ann reached out and took his hand, and they strolled hand-in-hand to the pool.
Lovey cleared her throat. The Skipper looked over at her. She took a banana from the fruit basket.
“You’re not going to let me eat alone, are you?” she asked.
The Skipper shook his head. He reached for the fruit basket, but Lovey took the yellow fruit from the basket and handed it to him.
His face lit up. “I thought these were all gone!” He bit into it.
Lovey smiled. She took the entire peeling off the banana, slowly and deliberately.
The Skipper took another bite.
Lovey nibbled one end of the peeled banana.
Gilligan and Ginger reached the lagoon. He picked up a few shells on the beach and began to skip them into the surf.
Ginger watched for a few minutes, then said, “Is this what you brought me here to see?”
Nervously, Gilligan turned to face her. “No… ummm…”
He stepped up closer to her. He stood, nervously shifting from foot to foot.
She batted her eyes at him. “Yes, Gilligan?”
Finally, he leaned forward quickly and kissed her, a quick peck on the lips.
He stepped back, half expecting her to slap him. She reached out and took his head between her hands, and pulled it toward her, planting a kiss on him that would melt steel.
Mary Ann and the Professor reached the sweetwater pool. The moon reflected off the pool and the shimmering waterfall.
They turned to face each other, and the Professor wrapped his arms around her. She melted in his arms, tilting her head back. He kissed her tentatively, then with more passion, and she returned the kiss.
Lovey wrapped her lips around the banana, drawing it into her mouth sensually.
The Skipper’s jaw dropped, and he stared, watching her fellate the banana.
The Professor dropped to his knees in front of Mary Ann, and untied the knot in her blouse. It dropped open, revealing her lovely, firm breasts and dark brown nipples.
He took first one, then the other nipple between his lips, tickling the tip of each with his tongue and sucking gently.
She ran her fingers through his hair, her head tilted back, her eyes closed.
Ginger dropped her hands to Gilligan’s waist, and untied his drawstring pants. They fell to the sand.
She wrapped her fingers around his erection, and whispered in his ear, “Is this what you brought me here to see?”
Gilligan gulped, and nodded.
Ginger dropped to her knees and sat back on her heels. She turned his dick to the left, to the right, then up and down, examining it from all angles.
She looked up and smiled. “Gilligan, I think it’s a penis.”
Lovey finished her banana, the Skipper still staring, his hands shaking.
She reached across the table and gripped his hand.
“Come on,” she whispered.
“M-m-mrs. H-h-howell,” he stammered.
“Lovey… please,” she smiled.
“I-I-I don’t think that…”
“Shhhh,” she whispered. “Don’t worry about Thurston. Listen. You can still hear him snore.”
She stood up and pulled the Skipper to his feet, and led him down the pathway into the jungle.
Ginger wrapped her lips around the end of Gilligan’s cock, swirling her tongue around his cockhead.
Gilligan moaned, unconsciously bucking his hips, pushing his penis further into her mouth.
“Easy, now, Gilligan,” she said, gripping him firmly. She applied her lips and tongue to his cock again, cupping his balls with one hand, a firm grip on his shaft with the other.
Mary Ann moaned softly as the Professor kissed his way down her belly, pushing his tongue into her navel. His hands worked gently at her shorts, unbuttoning them. They slid down her legs, and she stepped out of them.
She dropped her open blouse off her shoulders and stood naked in the moonlight. The Professor sat back on his heels, looking at her.
She turned, slowly. “Like what you see?”
“Prettiest girl on the island.”
“Hummph. That’s not saying much.”
“Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
“That’s better.” She leaned over and kissed his lips. “Now it’s your turn. Stand up.”
He scrambled to his feet. Mary Ann unbuttoned his shirt, and slipped it back over his shoulders. She ran her hands down his hairless chest and down his belly. She unfastened his trousers, and let them drop. Then she pulled his boxer shorts down over his ass, and they joined his other clothing on the ground. He stepped out of his shoes as he freed his feet from his pants, his penis erect and throbbing.
“Last one in’s a rotten egg,” she said, and dashed for the pool.
The Professor wasn’t far behind her. They hit the water at the same time, spashing into the cold water. They dove down, kissing under water, then broke the surface in an embrace, their feet just touching bottom as their heads bobbed at the surface. They held each other tightly.
Gilligan tugged off his shirt and cap, and stepped out of his pants. Ginger stood up and turned around.
“Unzip me,” she said.
Gilligan fumbled for the zipper pull, then worked it slowly down her back. The dress opened up, revealing her bare back—no bra straps. The zipper ended just at the crack of her ass.
She shrugged out of the dress facing away from her, and let it drop slowly. Gilligan stared at her ass, so round, so firm, so fully packed. He reached out and caressed it, gently, his hands shaking.
Mary Ann wrapped her legs around the Professor’s hips, clinging to him in the water. As they kissed, she worked herself up him, until the tip of his penis was just at the entrance to her pussy. She lowered herself on him, taking his thick cock fully inside her.
The Professor stood in the water, marvelling at how the differential in ambient temperature between the aqua pura and Mary Ann’s internal vaginal temperature…
What the hell… the cold water made her cunt feel even hotter.
He gripped her tighter.
Lovey and the Skipper found a small clearing in the jungle and sat down. Lovey wrapped her arms around the Skipper’s neck and kissed him gently on the lips.
He hesitated a moment, then returned the kiss. She opened her mouth, and his tongue danced inside.
She slid over into his lap, running one hand over his barrel chest, outside his shirt.
Ginger turned around, giving Gilligan a good look at her firm, pink-nippled breasts, and the red-haired patch below. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him again.
They sank to their knees on the sandy beach. She pushed Gilligan backwards, and he lay on his back. She moved quickly into a sixty-nine position on top of him, lowering her pussy over his face, as she drew his penis between her lips.
Gilligan dove in greedlily, fastening his lips around her clit, stroking it with his tongue. He reached up, grabbing the white globes of her asscheeks, clinging to them as she moved sensually.
She took his full length into her mouth, deep-throating him. Gilligan moaned.
Mary Ann and the Professor worked their way back to the edge of the pool, and the Professor climbed out, Mary Ann still wrapped around him.
He staggered a few feet, his cock firmly held inside her pussy. He dropped to his knees, and gently lowered her to the ground.
She released her grip on his hips, and he began to take slow, deep strokes. She met each stroke with a tilt of her pelvis, rubbing her clit against his shaft.
Lovey unbuttoned her blouse, letting it drop off her shoulders. She reached behind her and unhooked her bra, and shrugged out of it.
She grasped the Skipper’s shaking hands, and placed them on her breasts. His fingers found her nipples, and as he twisted them between his fingers, she kissed his lips again.
She pushed him gently backwards, until he lay on the soft grass. She knelt between his legs, and unfastened his pants. She reached inside, and wrapped her fingers around his growing penis. Her fingers did not reach all the way around it.
He lifted his hips, and she slid his pants down, and maneuvering around, managed to get them down his legs and off, taking his shoes with them. She knelt again between his legs, and licked his penis, which was too big to take into her mouth. She cupped his balls in one hand, gently massaging them as she worked over his huge cockhead with her lips and tongue.
Ginger’s body shook as she neared orgasm. Gilligan was nothing if not diligent in his efforts at her clit. She sat back a little, pressing her cunt against his jaw and tongue, keeping a firm grip on his penis.
She started to come, her orgasm beginning at her clit, radiating through her body in a warm rush.
As her contractions ended, she slid off his face, and turned to kiss his lips, tasting her own juices on his mouth.
The Professor rolled over onto his back, pulling Mary Ann over on top of him. She sat up, impaling herself on his cock. She sat there, making small circles, rubbing her clit against his pubic bone and base of his cock.
She could feel little contractions beginning in her pussy, and reached down to stroke her clit. He pushed her hands aside, and using his thumbs, made circular motions over her clit.
Mary Ann tilted her head back, her eyes closed, her breasts thrust forward, a lovely sight for the Professor.
Her cunt clamped down on him as she climaxed, her body quivering with the force of her orgasm.
Lovey stood up and unfastened her skirt, allowing it to drop to the ground. As the Skipper watched interestedly, she turned, and pulled her panties down over her ass, giving him a view not only of her asshole but a good look at her pussy.
Now naked, she turned again towards him, stepping over his legs, and squatting over his hips. His huge cock stood up in front of her dark pubic hair. She wrapped both hands around his cock, and stroked gently, as he reached up to tweak her nipples with his fingers.
She raised herself up and forward, guiding his penis to the entrance to her cunt. She lowered herself, breathing deeply as his cockhead forced her cuntlips aside, pushing slowly inside her.
Mary Ann began to move again, pushing herself up and down with her legs. The Professor reached up and took hold of her breasts, rolling her erect nipples with his thumbs.
He neared orgasm. He moved his hands from her breasts to her shoulders, and pulled her on top of him. He kissed her lips, as his balls exploded, pumping spurt after spurt into her hot, waiting pussy.
Ginger lay back on the sand. Gilligan scrambled up between her legs, and kissed his way up her body, pausing briefly to suck on her pink nipples.
She pulled him to her, and kissed his mouth, her tongue slipping through their lips. She reached down and guided his cock into her dripping pussy.
He began slow, easy strokes, her legs wrapped around his, her feet just behind his knees.
Gilligan neared orgasm, and pushed himself deeply into Ginger’s cunt. Ginger slid her legs up around his hips, holding him inside her as he started to ejacualte.
He collapsed on top of her and they breathed heavily together.
The Skipper was breathing heavily, too, as Lovey continued to lower herself on his huge shaft.
Lovey moaned softly, allowing her body to adjust to the Skipper’s size. She was lubricating freely, which was making it easier for the Skipper’s cock to slide inside her.
She reached the bottom of his shaft. She sat still a moment, savoring the sensation of being completely filled up. He was the size of her fullback in college, and that brought back some lovely memories.
The Skipper was caressing her breasts, rolling his thumbs over her nipples. She tilted her head back, arching her back, pressing her tits into his hands. She reached down and stroked her clit, pressing it between her fingers and his penis. She shivered with pleasure.
She raised herself just a bit, allowing the Skipper’s cock to slide out about two inches, then lowered herself again. The movement was getting easier. She did it again, and again, picking up a little speed, holding her clit against his penis.
“Nnnnngh,” the Skipper moaned, and clasped at her.
He began to come; there was no room inside her, so it gushed around his cock and ran down into his pubic hair.
She continued to work herself up and down his shaft, nearing orgasm herself. As the Skipper’s cock softened, and with the extra lubrication of his come, she picked up some speed.
The contractions came suddenly, squeezing against his cock, shaking her body. She collapsed forward, with him still inside her, and lay on his barrel chest.
The Professor and Mary Ann took another dip in the pool, rinsing each other off with giggles and tender touches. They got dressed, and headed back to the compound.
Ginger and Gilligan also arose, and dashed hand-in-hand into the surf in the lagoon to rinse off the sand, then they too dressed and headed ‘home’.
The four of them arrived at the girls’ hut at the same time. With knowing glances at each other, the two couples kissed again good-night. The two girls headed into their hut.
The Professor put his arm around Gilligan’s shoulder. “So how did it go?”
“It didn’t go,” Gilligan grinned. “It came.”
The Professor chuckled. They headed back to their huts.
Lovey reluctantly removed herself from the Skipper’s cock; even in its flaccid state it was a sizable organ.
She recovered her clothing, slipping into her blouse and skirt, tucking her bra and panties into her pocket. The Skipper arose, and tugged on his trousers and shoes.
They walked hand in hand almost to the compound, dropping this last physical contact when they approached the clearing, in case anyone was still up to see them.
They needn’t have bothered; there was no one in the compound, and the only sound was the buzz-saw roar of Thurston Howell’s snores.
The Skipper walked her to the door of her hut.
“Good-night, sweet Captain,” she whispered.
She kissed him quickly, and slipped through the hut door.
The Skipper sauntered back to his hut. He noted that Gilligan was already in the top hammock, and he rolled into the lower one. As he pulled the blankets up under his chin, he felt suddenly dizzy; then he fell into a deep sleep.
Lovey changed into her nightgown, using a hand towel to wipe away most of the Skipper’s semen.
She slipped into the bed, listened for a moment to the roar of the buzz saw, then reached over for the soft gum earplugs.
Thurston was cuddled up with his teddy bear.
“He couldn’t care less if I was here or not,” she muttered. She lay back against the pillow, thinking about the Captain’s penis.
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.”
“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.