Gilligan's Island: Passion Fruit 5/12
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 5)
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
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
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
"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
"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
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
"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
"Oh," Ginger smiled. "That kind of dream."
Mary Ann nodded.
"Yeah," Ginger nodded in assent. "I've had dreams like that this week,
"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
"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
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
"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.