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Subject: TV Shows - Gilligans Island ---
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Subject: GILLIGAN'S ISLAND (FULL story)
==============================================================
(Prolog --- In the 1960's, s-e-x was something you couldn't even THINK about on "National" TV! - But hey, THIS is the year 2008! - And times, they ARE a-changin'!
Archie Bunker FLUSHED in the 1980's,
Double beds gave way to King sized,
Hemingway kissed Roseanne ushering same-sex relationships,
Gays are seen on the 'tube' as everyday people without stereo-types!
MOST of Carlin's "7 deadly words" have been used and in WHOLE sentances!
So, let's take a 'Gilligan' eppisode and start updating it to an "adult" sit-com! - N-joy!)
==============================================================
"Gilligan, I've been following you for what seems like an hour already", grumbled the Skipper. "Do you have any idea where we are?"
"I know exactly where we are," answered Gilligan.
"Well, where are we then?"
"We're lost!"
"Oh, Gilligan! Well judging from the sky I think if we head directly east we'll eventually hit the beach."
Gilligan looked around aimlessly.
"That way!" said the Skipper, pointing in the desired direction. Gilligan looked in the direction of the Skipper's finger, hesitated, and looked back at the Skipper.
"Well, go on!" said the Skipper, pushing Gilligan toward a clump of jungle foliage.
Gilligan stepped forward into the brush, pushing aside the branches to create a path. The thick jungle growth pushed back as if resisting his attempts to pass. Still, Gilligan pushed forward, walking straight into a hanging vine which tangled itself around him. Within moments, the vine had wrapped itself around Gilligan like a coiled spring, which snapped Gilligan backward right into the Skipper's belly.
"Boohp!" gasped the Skipper.
Gilligan spun around to try to untangle the vine, which now wrapped around the Skipper. The Skipper pulled on the vine, while Gilligan continued his spinning, and soon the vine was wrapped around both of them. The Skipper grabbed Gilligan to stop his spinning, and gave the vine a mighty pull. The vine fell to the ground.
"Gilligan would you forget about the vine!" the Skipper growled as he pushed Gilligan forward again. "MOVE!"
Gilligan stumbled head first into another clump of bushes, and immediately his head hit on something solid. As he pushed aside the branches and peered through, he encountered a horrible fierce face staring back at him.
Gilligan's jaw dropped, and he jumped back gasping for breath. "Yaah!", he gasped, and again bumped into the Skipper.
"What is wrong with you now?" asked the Skipper impatiently.
"Y-you lead the way!" Gilligan stammered.
The Skipper stepped forward and pushed the brush aside. The same horrible face stared back through the branches. Startled, the Skipper jumped back. Seeing nothing move, he pushed the
branches aside again. The face was fierce, but motionless. There was another above it, and another above that, each one more horrible than the one below.
"It must be some kind of a native totem pole!" the Skipper exclaimed.
"Did you ever see a more horrible looking face?" asked Gilligan.
They looked up to the top of the pole. A lone carved head sat motionlessly on top of the ediface, it's scrawny, almost emaciated, features glaring back with a malevolence uncommon in carved wood.
"Look at that horrible one" said the Skipper.
Gilligan gaped at the cruel, yet simple features. There was something oddly familiar about that horrible face. He stared at it for a couple of seconds before realizing what it was.
"That horrible face is MINE!" he gasped.
Machetes are a useful tool for clearing away jungle growth. The castaways were fortunate enough to always have at hand whatever was needed for plot development, and so they had enough machetes for the three men to use in clearing away the overgrowth surronding the totem pole. In just enough time to allow the credits to roll, the Professor, the Skipper and Gilligan had hacked it all away, and stood back to get a good look at their new discovery.
"It's a native totem pole, alright", announced the Professor after mere seconds of observation, "carved by the Kupa-Kai I'd say".
"Kupa who?" asked Gilligan.
"Gilligan, can't you understand English?" chided the Skipper, "KUPA - KAI!"
"If that's English I went to the wrong school!"
"Professor, what is a Kupa-Kai?" asked the Skipper.
"They're a native tribe who used to inhabit some of the islands in this area."
"Look at the head on top", said the Skipper, directing the point of his machette to the top of the totem pole. "The face looks just like Gilligan!"
"It does at that! A bit more ferrocious, perhaps, but it is an amazing likeness."
"And I didn't even pose for it!" said Gilligan.
"That's really a good carving!" the Skipper observed, "Those natives must be pretty handy with a knife!"
"Oh, they're handy with a knife, all right." said the Professor with a slight twinge of irony in his voice. "A fork, too! The Kupa-Kai are one of most ferrocious tribes of cannibals in the South Pacific!"
"You mean the people who carved that head... they're cannibals?" gasped Gilligan.
"That's right."
"Do they hunt heads, too?"
"They save the heads as trophies after the banquet. It's a common practice of many of the cannibalistic tribes in this area."
"Do you think they're advertising for me?" asked Gilligan in a trembling voice.
"Oh, I think the resemblance is just an odd coincidence, that's all." the Professor assured. "You must be a dead ringer for one of their Kings."
"Please don't say dead," Gilligan stammered, "not while I'm alive."
"Relax, Gilligan!" said the Professor impatiently. "The Kupa-Kai must have carved that pole many years ago. I really don't think you have anything to worry about."
"You've really it made if those Kupa-Kai's ever come back to the island," joked the Skipper. "You look enough like one of those Kupa-Kais the be one yourself!"
As usual, Gilligan didn't quite get the joke. He fell silent after that and as the three walked back to the camp Gilligan cast his gaze at the ground with a concerned expression on his face. He barely spoke at all for the rest of the evening.
That night, Gilligan lay quiet in his hammock looking at himself in a mirror.
"Skipper, how come nobody ever told me before I looked like a Kupa-Kai?" asked Gilligan, finally breaking his silence.
"Because anybody who knows what a Kupa-Kai looks like isn't alive to talk about it." the Skipper answered.
"I sure do look like one." said Gilligan, still examining the mirror closely.
"Oh, Gilligan, it's just a coincidence; just like the Professor said."
Gilligan put down the mirror and looked down at the Skipper. "I know what he said! But if two people have a face like mine it isn't a coincidence!"
"That's true," said the Skipper smugly. "IT'D BE A CATASTROPHE!"
"What if that old King is my great, great grandfather or something!?"
"Gilligan that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard! How could you possibly be related to a native South Pacific cannibal?"
"I don't know," answered Gilligan with a wild eyed stare, "But if that old King on the pole is my anscestor... That means I have cannibal's blood in me..."
This was pushing the limit of what little patience the Skipper had. "WILL YOU KNOCK IT OFF!" he groweled angrily.
"There is such a thing as..." he searched for what he thought was the right word, "Herdity!"
"HEREDITY," corrected the Skipper. "You look like him because of HER-ED-IT-Y."
"You see!" exclaimed Gilligan. "Even YOU think he was my anscestor!"
"WILL YOU GO TO SLEEP, GILLIGAN." Gilligan knew enough not to push it any farther. Except,
that is, for one last comment.
"Alright... But if you wake up tomorrow morning and you don't have your head; don't say I didn't warn you!"
---------------------------------------------------------------
Gilligan had never had much trouble sleeping and, even in his current state of anxiety, he was soon falling fast asleep. As he faded off, the image of the head on the totem pole continued to plague him, and although there was none in the original episode (but then again, there was no SEX in the original episode either), he began to detect the wavy images and tinkling music of an upcoming dream sequence.
He could feel the bamboo crown of the totem pole head on his own head and his torso was covered with a reed breastplate. Around his hips was the grass skirt of a native and his wrists and ankles were adorned by brightly colored bird feathers. He could feel and smell the warpaint which covered his face and body as he lurked in a cover of jungle shrubbery.
He listened, and could hear a voice approaching.
"Here we go gathering nuts in May, nuts in May, nuts in May."
It was the sweet and innocent voice of Mary Ann as she skipped down the jungle path carrying a basket of fruit. She was dressed in Gilligan's favorite outfit: her short, almost bare shouldered, yellow halter top and her short denim cut-offs, cut just short enough to show the slight curve of her buttocks where they met with her delectable thighs. Missing was the rise in front that usually hid her bellybutton, which now winked at him
from above her tight shorts reminding him of a sweet lifesaver candy ready to be licked. The sight of her made his mouth water and his stomach rumble, and as she passed him he sprang on her from his jungle cover like a pouncing leopard.
"EEEK!!", she screamed and dropped the basket of fruit. He grabbed her and dragged her over to a nearby stake.
"Oh, kind sir! You have such a kind face. How can I talk you out of doing this horrible deed!" she pleaded as he pushed her up against the stake and started to tie her hands to the stake with some jungle vines.
"Oh, please! Do not harm me cannibal!" she begged, as he tightened the vines around her lithe body.
He started a dance around her, and as he did so he heard a chorus of drums begin to beat a sensual rhythm. Turning around, he saw two large cooking pots nearby, one taller and narrower, the other a little shorter and wider. He stooped to pick up the fruit that Mary Ann had dropped and, walking over to the shorter pot, he threw it in. Picking up a large spoon he stirred the water in the pot, and scooped up a small amount of it which he brought to his lips to taste.
It tasted like hot water.
"Needs salt," he said, and grabbing a handful of salt from a nearby box he dropped it into the steaming water and tasted it again. This time it tasted just like onion soup.
He also discovered that he now had a bone in his nose.
Turning around again he looked over at Mary Ann. He wasn't sure how she'd gotten there (but one doesn't question a dream, especially if you're Gilligan) but Ginger was now tied to a stake right next to Mary Ann. Ginger was dressed in her two-piece pink floral sarong. Her shoulders and midriff were bare, and one creamy white leg protruded from the slit in the lower part the sarong which covered her from her ankles to her 24 inch waist.
Next to her stood a long-haired, muscle-bound cannibal warrior who was pinching the meat on her voluptuous thigh. Ginger struggled half-heartedly against her bonds as the warrior moved his hands to feel her ample white belly. Concluding the caress, he licked his fingers.
"I can't believe it's not butter!" the hunkish warrior exclaimed in a funny Italian accent.
Gilligan strode toward the bound Mary Ann feeling very much like the Cannibal King, and walked up to inspect his catch. Looking down at her feet, which were bare, he brought his gaze up to her delicate ankles, and then to her firm, trim and tanned legs and lingered his gaze a while at her equally firm, yet plump and curvy thighs. Letting his gaze scan up past her tight-fitting shorts, he drank in the sight of her perfect, flat tummy. He had lost count of how many times he had looked at that tummy before and how many times he had secretly fantasized about sticking his tongue into her tiny, deep navel. Above her belly he could see her nipples poking out through the fabric of her yellow halter top, and the cleavage of her small, pert breasts above the lace ruffles at the elastic edge. Her brown chest and shoulders ended at the bottom of her long tapering neck, above which was her innocent angelic face surrounded by jet-black hair; braided into pig-tails.
Gilligan smacked his lips at the sight and poked her gently on her perfect tummy. He had to know her taste, and this was the place to do it.
He got down onto his knees, and unfastened the button on her shorts. Pulling aside the flaps as he unzipped her shorts, he leaned forward and plunged his tongue into her waiting navel. She moaned and wiggled as he licked her tummy in long, random sweeps. The taste reminded him of roast beef au jus (which Mary Ann's golden brown coloring had always reminded him of).
Standing up, Gilligan licked his lips again.
"UNGAWA!" he said with a big smile while rubbing his belly, although he had no idea what the word meant or why he said it.
Now he turned his attention to Ginger. As Mary Ann was petite and dark, Ginger was tall, voluptuous and light. Her long red hair fell about her pale white shoulders and her pink sarong top barely contained her large, soft breasts.
"Oh Gilligan, you wouldn't do anything to me, would you? We've always been friends, Gilligan" she said in a pleading, but still characteristically sensuous voice.
Gilligan did not answer. All he could do was to stare at those breasts. He had always wanted to feast his eyes on them, and now he would. Reaching out with his left hand, he grabbed hold of the fabric encasing his prize, and he gave it a firm pull. The sarong top fell away easily and Ginger's breasts fell free.
They were white as buttermilk, with rosebud pink nipples at the tips. Gilligan reached out his hands to stroke them. They felt soft and velvety in his hands. They were large, and more than a mouthful, so he opened his mouth wide and wrapped his jaws around one of Ginger's milky-white globes. He sucked it in as far as he could get it to go, and swirled his tongue around her translucent titty-flesh. Her breast tasted like vanilla ice-cream, with a sweet maraschino cherry on top. He squeezed her other breast with his hand as he licked around the one.
Switching, he moved his mouth to the other breast, which had now picked up an added flavor of whipped cream. He slid his tongue down the crease in the middle of her belly, which tasted like white chocolate, down to her navel. Pressing his tongue deep into Ginger's bellybutton, he could taste one of Mary Ann's coconut-cream pies.
As he tongued Ginger's bellybutton, he ran his hands up her legs under the sarong. From sensuous calves to tender thighs to ...
... He felt the soft down of her bush.
Removing his tongue from Ginger's navel he pulled aside the flaps of the sarong, and as he did so he saw a flash of red.
In seeming anticipation of what was coming next, Ginger raised her legs and wrapped them around Gilligan's head. He licked his lips in preparation for the next taste treat and
closed his eyes, ready to take the plunge into that delightful patch of strawberry colored fur.
He brought up his hands and grabbed hold of Ginger's sensual thighs, but...
Something was wrong. He felt...
HAIR!
Gilligan opened his eyes and fell backward out of the grip of Ginger's legs, and looking up he saw that Ginger was gone. In her place was a tall, thin man with a moustache.
"Hey, Waddaya think YOU'RE doing!" the man said in a familiar voice. "What are ya, some kinda wise guy?"
Gilligan turned his head, and tied to the next stake where Mary Ann should have been was a short, plump man dressed in jungle khakis and a pith helmet.
"You've been a baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad boy!" said the man in a high pitched, whiny voice.
Gilligan woke up screaming.
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"So we've got a real problem," said the Skipper with his mouth full of mornings breakfast.
"You mean Gilligan really thinks he came from a long line of headhunting cannibals?" asked Ginger incredulously.
"Oh that's ridiculous!" Mary Ann interjected, "He's the sweetest, most gentle boy I've ever known, and it really has me worried! - He hasn't made a 'pass' at me since we GOT here."
"Well that may be so, Mary Ann," said the Skipper, "But after he woke up from that dream he went out into the jungle to stare at his ancestor some more."
"Oh, pooh," scoffed Mrs. Howell. "If he was a headhunter why would he settle with the head he has?"
"Don't poo-poo heredity," instructed Mr. Howell. "Like they say, 'Blood will tell.'"
Ginger shivered. "That's easy for you to say, Mr. Howell, he didn't have a dream about turning YOU into a blue-plate special!"
"That only shows that he does have some taste after all!" said Mr. Howell with a lecherous smile. "I've had similar dreams about you myself!"
Mrs. Howell was not amused by that comment and announcing they were done with breakfast, SMACKED Thurston beside his head and dragged Mr. Howell back to their hut.
"That dream really spooked him," said the Skipper. "He said it all seemed so natural and familiar to him, as if he's seen it all before!"
"He probably did!" said Ginger. "It sounded to me a lot like a scene from an old Abbott and Costello movie!"
"Dream or no dream, Gilligan is NOT a cannibal and we all know it," insisted Mary Ann.
"Yeah, but how are we going to convince HIM of that?" asked the Skipper rhetorically. At that moment Gilligan walked by the breakfast table with a blank expression on his face.
"Hi, Gilligan!" said Mary Ann cheerfully. "Want some breakfast?"
"How would you like to go fishing, little buddy?" asked the Skipper as Gilligan continued by in a daze.
"Well," said Ginger. "The last time I saw an open-mouthed stare like that was when I was entertaining some GI's at a USO performance."
"How are we going to get Gilligan to forget about that totem pole?" Mary Ann wondered aloud. The others shrugged their shoulders and cleared the breakfast table.
Later, while Mary Ann and Ginger were doing the breakfast dishes, Gilligan's dilemma was still the topic of conversation.
"Can you believe Gilligan actually believing he's descended from a cannibal?" said Mary Ann to Ginger.
"It might explain the way he's looked at us before." Ginger answered.
"I'm sure that has nothing to do with it," replied Mary Ann. "Besides, I refuse to believe that Gilligan could do harm to anyone."
"I don't know," said Ginger with a far-way, wistful look. "I'm not sure I'd entirely mind being eaten once in a while. I'm not used to the lack of male attention I get on this island. A little excitement and danger would be a nice change."
"Well, seeing as I'm about to "rag-it", so your chances of getting pussy have dropped by half", said Mary Ann sarcastically, "maybe this is your opportunity, if you can get Gilligan's attention away from that totem pole, that is!"
Ginger's face brightened with a look of inspiration, and then changed to a sly expression.
"Mary Ann," she said, "You've given me an idea."
Back at the totem pole Gilligan sat staring intently at the faces on the pole; particularly the head on top. Ginger slinked up wearing her sexiest gown and stood between the totem pole and Gilligan, who just looked around her as if she were a branch that had gotten in the way.
"Hi Gilligan," she said in her most alluring voice, "would you like to take a nice, long sexy walk with me in the jungle?"
"No Thanks," he said, almost as if he hadn't actually heard what she had said.
"Then how about a cool, refreshing swim? I'll wear my polka-dot bikini," she added, while gliding her hands over the hour-glass shape of her figure. THAT should get his attention, she thought.
"I wonder if they shrink a lot," was his only reply.
She laughed and flashed him a sexy smile. "If they did there'd be only one dot left!" she said, "or I could just leave it on the beach and we swim nude!", Ginger said, still talking about her bikini. The comment did momentarily divert his attention, though.
"No," he said. "I was wondering if those cannibals shrink a lot of heads." Gingers smile disappeared and she turned to glance at the totem pole. She threw her head back and made a 'tsk' sound.
"Oh Gilligan," she said as if talking to a silly child.
Getting down on her knees she put her hands gently on Gilligan's lap and began rubbing his crotch. She looked at him eye to eye. He's NOT going to ignore her now, she thought.
"You know, they say that she shortest distance between two points is a straight line. Do you know what I'm talking about?", as she reached for his belt buckle.
"No," he answered with a confused look on his face. "I never was very good at math."
Ginger was not used to this. Any other man would have had his tongue down her throat and her dress in a torn heap in the bushes by now, she thought. More direct methods would be required here, she decided, and stood back up.
Reaching up she took hold of the straps which held her dress up at her shoulders and slipped them off. She pulled the dress down over her breasts and let it drop to her waist. Then she shimmied the dress down over her luscious wide hips and let it drop to the ground. She now stood before Gilligan, naked but for her heels, with her dress around her feet.
"Will you stop looking at that DAMN totem pole and look at me for a minute," she said in a demanding tone. Gilligan's mouth dropped open. He had dreamed about how Ginger would look naked but this was the first time he had ever actually seen her entirely in the buff with his eyes open and his dick not in his hand. The totem pole was momentarily forgotten.
Coming out of nowhere, he heard the sultry wail of a saxophone as he slowly scanned his eyes up Ginger's naked body. Her feet in white, high-heeled pumps; her long, firm and shapely legs; her full thighs; the red patch of her bush; her shapely, wide hips; the soft curve of her mons venus; her narrow waist, oval navel and her perfectly flat stomach; the ridges of her ribs; her large full, white breasts with rosy pink nipples; soft shoulders; long, slender neck and, of course, her glamorous, movie star face and fiery red hair.
"Now," Ginger said in her most sexy, breathiest voice. "What has that totem pole got that I haven't got?"
Gilligan couldn't speak. He could barely catch his breath. The light of the sun reflecting off Ginger's auburn mane, made it look like her head was glowing with fire, and her white skin looked almost translucent. She looked to Gilligan like an angel standing there. But as he looked at her nakedness, his thoughts turned to things which could hardly be described as angelic. He felt his mouth begin to water as he remembered his dream.
Suddenly it was as if he were possessed. he fell forward and grabbed hold of Ginger's hips and, as he had done in his dream, he pushed his tongue into Ginger's navel.
She let out a sigh. "That's more like it," she said and gently rested her hands on Gilligan's head. "But I think you might like it better a little bit lower."
For once, Gilligan didn't need it explained to him. He slid his tongue downward over the fine down of her red pubic hair. His tongue spread open the flaps of her labia and found the wet, smooth interior of her pussy.
Ginger took Gilligan by the shoulders and pulled him down with her as she rolled backward onto the ground. Gilligan was in between her legs and Ginger spread her legs open.
Gilligan spread the flaps of her labia with his hands and peered into the juicy pinkness of her pussy. He slowly licked around the pink interior until his tongue found the bump of her clitoris, which he clamped his lips around and sucked, flicking her clit with his tongue as he did so.
"Oh Gilligan," she moaned in pleasure, "now that's what I call 'cannibal!' --- Eat me stud-muffin!"
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Unknown to either Ginger or Gilligan, Mary Ann saw the Skipper and the Professor walking into the compound. She called them over and told the about what Ginger was going to do with Gilligan.
"No WAY!" bellowed the Skipper. "She's gonna try to do WHAT with my lil-buddy?"
"Now, hold off Skipper", said the Professor. "She just MAY have a good, but somewhat misguided, idea there. - It's a form of "aversion-therapy' where you replace ONE NEGATIVE thought pattern with a "POSITIVE" pattern."
"Do you think she could 'hurt' him?", asked Mary Ann.
"Only if he trys TOO HARD to keep up with her." said the Professor. "She IS a full grown, adult woman, with wants and sexual urges, and Gilligan is just ...."
"gilligan." said Mary Ann.
"Gilligan is in DEEP shit!" said the Skipper!
With that, the three of them turned and took off like lightening through the brush, making their way to the Totem pole.
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Lovey and Thurston, hearing the commotion, came out of their hut just in time to see three people going into the brush. And a persons curiosity being what it is, they took off after the others, but got separated and got to the totem pole just a few yards away from Skipper, Mary Ann and the Professor!
But, before they could let them know they were there also, Lovey spotted what Gilligan and Ginger were doing and clamped her hand over Thurstons mouth and turned his head to face the action.
Gilligan had Gingers legs splayed wide apart, his arms holding them open at an obscene angle that would have hurt a "lesser" woman. But, Ginger was NO STRANGER to a 'casting couch' and instinct was taking over her every move, matching Gilligan Tit for twat!
Gilligan paused for a milli-second and ripped his shirt over his head, sending his hat flying one way and the shirt backward, smacking Mary Ann in the face. The Skipper looked shocked at the way his docile little friend was behaving. The professor was wide-eyed at the scene being played out in front of them.
All 5 of them, croutched down at once, so as not to disturb the players. Someone pulled down the worlds LOUDEST and LONGEST zipper.
Mary Ann whispered to no one special, 'is it HOT on this island, or is it just ME?' as she opened the knot at the bottom of her blouse, opening it to the hope of a wind.
Skipper answered her ... 'must be the noon-day sun! It's the hottest part of the day.' as he took off his hat and slid his shirt over his head. His shoes followed just as quickly.
"Oh - - MY!" exclaimed Thurston!
"OH, dear!" Lovey said in her throaty voice. "Will you just LOOK at THAT!", she added, pointing into the clearing as Gilligan stood up and dropped his pants. He reached out and grabbed Ginger by her hair, yanked her to a kneeling positison, and fed her his cock.
Just the head first, followed by a little more with each thrust. Ginger's jaws were straining to get accustomed to it's swelling size. She'd never in her dreams, thought Gilligan would be hung as long as John Holmes or as round as that horse she used in her "ONLY" stag film ... but by GAWD! - he sure as hell WAS BIGGER than 'Seabuscut' and was giving 'John' a run for his money in stamina!
She choked on his member only twice as she fought to gain control of her throat and find a matching speed and tempo that they would agree on. Soon, she'd have her one hand in her crotch on her clit and the other cupping Gilligan's hairy ball-sack, rolling it's contents like a pair of marbles in her hot hand,
Lovey, noticing Thurstons zipper was down, his belt undone, and his pants at his knees, pushed him backwards and ripping her sundress over her, moved into a '69' position with him. His musky, manly smell filling her nostrils, his cockhead filling her mouth, she swallowed once and found his cockhead - JUST - past the back of her mouth, tickling her throat!
"Lovey, you ALWAYS could get my full attention with that!" Thurston groaned softly as he pulled at her panties until they broke apart. Then he stuck his nose in the crack of Lovey's ass and sucked in the scent of 'his' woman.
"MMmfmmgmhemmf!" replied Lovey.
The Professor, mean while, noticed some movement in the bushes to their left, and turned to tell the Skipper and Mary Ann "We are NOT alone!" - but found himself stareing at Mary Ann's pussy and ass. For a couple seconds or so, he watched as her head bobbed a 'rythmic' pattern on the Skippers' crotch. Then Skipper's meaty right hand came behind her head and held her there as his hips came up to her face.
The Professor, sensing his opportunity, pulled his pants down, and moved behind Mary Ann's cute ass, spit in his hand and rubbed it on his cockhead, and spit again on her rosebud. SLOWLY, at first he lined it up and stabbed it home, penetrating Mary Ann deep in her ass, as she let out a muffled scream.
The Skipper grabbed her head now with BOTH hands and pumped his load into her mouth.
Gilligan looked around and smiled ... then pushed Ginger on her back, strattled her chest and pumped his cock between her tits as her tongue came out to meet him.
Ginger worked a free hand behind Gilligan and began working her hand down to the small piece of flesh between Gilligan's ass and balls. She'd FOUND his Vas Deferens tube. She placed a finger on it and begun to massage it. In a matter of seconds, Gilligan lifted himself up and shoved his cock as far down her throat as he could.
"AAawwww - YES baby! - YES !!!!!" he screamed. "JUST - LIKE - THAT - BITCCCCChhhhhhhh!" as he felt his seed pumping out into her waiting mouth.
In a few seconds, it sounded like two other echos of this began their own 'releases', followed by two heads popping up to his one side, and three heads popping out of the bush on the other side ... and ALL wearing only a sheepish, but knowing, grin!
Gilligan looked down and watched as Ginger 'Koo-ed' a happy noise, like she'd found the ONLY cream-filled candy bar on the beach. Planting a kiss at the base of his dick's head and a quick lick up the staff.
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Ginger looked around at the others, then at Gilligan ... "Well, I guess we could TRY it as a 'clothing optional' resort for a while ... what do you think?"
Gilligan nodded his head in agreement, all the while thinking to himself ... 'finding that deformed coconut was the BEST thing that happened to me on this island until this morning!'
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I have ONE MORE "Gilligans Island" - the 'Return to the island' (also called Chapters 4+5).
I'm looking for OTHER "TV" adaptations - I've seen 3 of "brady Bunch", 1 of "Addams Family" to name a couple ... so, I KNOW they're out there, and SOMEONE has them!
Please post?