Gilligan's Island - The Castaways Throw A Party

( a fictional story about fictional characters)

(I realize the audience for this story is limited, but I grew up when this show was originally on TV and always had a crush on the Mary Ann character. Hope some of the older readers enjoy it. Who was your favorite: Ginger or Mary Ann?)

As Mary Ann strolled along one of the now well-worn paths through the lush tropical foliage gathering coconuts for, yet another, meal of some sort of banana/coconut cuisine; she was reflecting on the time the seven passengers of the SS Minnow had spent on the island after being shipwrecked by a furious storm. In some ways it seemed like yesterday when their "three-hour-tour" had been rudely interrupted by one of the worst squalls that the Skipper had ever seen; and in other aspects, it seemed like they had been marooned on the island for an eternity. In some respects, she guessed they were very lucky: none of the boats passengers or crew had been injured when the boat ran aground; the island, under any other circumstances, was a virtual paradise, with a fresh water source and plenty of food; and they had become very adept at self-sufficiency. Also, they had all become good friends who could be counted on to always help each other.

Gathering the coconuts also reminded her of how she no longer took many things for granted. The simple coconut: sometimes it seemed like they used it for just about everything. The shells, of course could be cut and used for bowls, cups, dippers, even helmets. Ginger had once even used two halves for a bikini top. The milk was a source of so many vitamins and nutrients. The pulp,or meat, was delicious and the Professor had shown them that if you squeezed the meat, you could extract the coconut oil. This was used for everything from cooking and burning as lamp oil, to keeping their metal tools from rusting. It kept their skin from cracking under the tropical sun, and was a wonderful lubricant. They kept a bowl of it handy always. She would have never known how versatile the plain coconut could be.

Her "hut-mate," Ginger Grant, was a beautiful, famous Hollywood actress, who never failed to enthrall her with tales of other actors and "Tinseltown." If you didn't know Ginger, your first impression would be that she was self-absorbed and narcissistic; but she was actually very friendly and insecure. Thurston Howell (the 3rd), and his ditzy wife Lovey were millionaires, and the stay on the island had brought their egos down to earth... somewhat. She thought it must be the hardest on them, because they were used to a life of complete luxury; never having to do anything for themselves. The fourth passenger was Dr. Roy Hinkley, but everyone just called him "Professor." She would never admit it to anyone, but she had developed a crush on this genius. She sometimes wondered though, of all the inventions (some of them life-saving) he had concocted on the island; why is it that he could not design a simple raft to get them off the island. She remembered reading in high school that primitive islanders had traveled thousands of miles on simple rafts made from reeds and bamboo.

The crew consisted of the Skipper, whose real name was Jonus Grumby; and his first-mate Gilligan. The Skipper had been on boats and ships all his life, and was the true authority figure on the island; she guessed that he would be considered their leader. Gilligan was the sweetest, nicest person she had ever met; but he was also the clumsiest, most incompetent sailor on earth. Although completely unintentional, it seemed like every time they had a slim opportunity to escape the island prison; Gilligan would always do something to foil them. "Poor Gilligan," she thought, "he always seemed to get stuck with the worst, dirtiest jobs on the island." They were supposed to take turns with "latrine duty," but sweet Gilligan almost always volunteered to take the others' turns. They had a small hut which contained a sunken pail under a stool with a hole in it. This was their toilet, and twice a week someone took the pail far into the jungle, dug a hole, and buried the contents. It was a distasteful job and Mary Ann figured Gilligan volunteered for it as a way of compensating for the guilt he felt about them still being shipwrecked.

Just as she had almost filled her canvas bag with coconuts, a frantic Gilligan, with the radio pressed against his ear, went rushing by shouting, "Skipper, Skipper."

"Now what," she thought, as she hurried after him.

When they reached the clearing where all the huts were located, everyone had heard his yelling and were gathered around the, centrally located, dinner table. Out of breath, and gasping, Gilligan handed the radio to the Skipper, who set it on the table, and joined everyone in listening to the news report: " a maritime tribunal has concluded that the loss of the SS Minnow was solely attributed to incompetence, and negligence of the ship's captain, Jonas Grumby."

The Professor swiftly shut the radio off, and everyone, stunned, just stared at the Skipper; waiting for his reaction. Having lived through the violent storm, absolutely none of the castaways put any blame on the Skipper. Mr. Howell's first thought after listening to the radio was that the first thing he was going to do after being rescued, was to buy the company that made the batteries in their radio, because the charge seemed eternal. The Skippers shoulders slumped forward and down, and he dropped into the nearest chair. He removed his hat and twisted it in his hands, as he looked from one castaway to the next.

The Professor was the first to speak, "why that's just preposterous Skipper; we all know there was nothing you could do."

"Why that's downright slander," Mr. Howell added, "when we get back to civilization, I'll have my lawyers sue those scoundrels."

"That's right Skipper, you saved our lives," Mary Ann said, attempting to sooth him.

"I don't know what to say everybody," the Skipper stated solemnly, "but if the maritime court says I'm to blame, then so be it."

Everyone continued to try to comfort him for several minutes, until the Skipper said he wanted to be alone, and he wandered off into the jungle. All afternoon, anytime one of the group saw the Skipper, they would try to soothe his ego; but he just moped around and sighed. He just sat by the lagoon and didn't join them for dinner, which gave them an opportunity to discuss the situation. Mr. Howell asked the Professor what his opinion was on Skipper's mental state. "Well, I only minored in Psychology," answered the Professor, "but in such cases of extreme emotional trauma; it is not unprecedented for the individual to entertain thoughts of suicide. Depression can be a powerful feeling."

"We have to do something to cheer him up," Gilligan said; echoing all their thoughts.

"I know what always cheers me up," Ginger suggested, "let's throw him a party to show him how much we appreciate him."

"That's a marvelous idea," Mrs. Howell agreed, "you put it all together, and we will come."

"Yes, I think that is a good idea," the Professor added, "and we can all remind him of something positive he has done here on the island."

"Oh boy, oh boy, a party. I'll start gathering coconuts and berries so Mary Ann can make some pies," volunteered Gilligan.

"Thanks Gilligan," Mary Ann said, rolling her eyes, "but remember, we have to keep this a surprise until tomorrow."

Right after dinner, everyone went about preparing for the next day's celebration: Ginger and Mary Ann began making streamers out of leaves, vines, and some blossoms they found down by the lagoon. As soon as Gilligan returned with the coconut, bananas and berries; Mary Ann would begin baking; the Professor went to work on some makeshift fireworks made from magnesium filings from some of the Minnow's tubing they had salvaged ; and the Howells tried to decide what to wear (not that it was much of a choice), and say in their speech. Mary Ann wondered, for about the hundredth time, why they had brought so many clothes on a "three-hour-tour."

When Gilligan returned, he was all excited about some new kind of purple berry he had found. "Try these Mary Ann, they are so sweet," he urged.

"Gilligan, are you sure they're safe; not poisonous," she inquired.

"Well, I thought of that so I just ate a couple; but I feel great," he responded.

Mary Ann frowned, but ate a couple berries, and confirmed, "oh you're right Gilligan...they really are sweet. There are enough here to make a couple pies. Thank you."

"Oh you're welcome Mary Ann; by the way you look really nice today," he responded.

As he turned to go do his remaining chores, Mary Ann called out, "why thank you Gilligan," and thought to herself, "what a strange thing for him to say...oh that Gilligan." Watching him walk away, she wondered why she had never noticed before what a cute butt he had. She quickly made a couple berry pies to go with a banana one and a coconut creme. By the time the baking was finished, it was time for everyone to hit the hammocks for a good night's sleep.

As she was laying in her hammock waiting for sleep to overtake her, Mary Ann thought again about the belongings everyone had brought on the sightseeing cruise. She was sure her contribution was the most essential: her sewing and knitting bag which contained all types of needles, thread, knitting needles, buttons, cloth, and a couple pair of scissors. They had all used these articles for some purpose. One of the pairs of scissors had been taken apart and used as spear tips for fishing (or protection, if the need ever arose). Their clothes had been repaired countless times; she even had needles large enough to accommodate fishing line, so that they could fashion useful bags and carryalls from burlap and canvas. Ginger had actually made a dress from one of the Minnows towels.

She chuckled as she thought about the one thing they had not been able to make more of: underwear. No one ever discussed the subject, but she knew her underwear had disintegrated long ago from being constantly worn and scrubbed, and she and Ginger had been without bras or panties for months. She just assumed that everyone on the island was in the same predicament. She wondered what they would do when all their clothes reached the point of being un-wearable. She guessed they would try to fashion clothes out of leaves.

She thought of how personal hygiene had drastically changed since being shipwrecked. They were still able to keep reasonably clean thanks to the soap the Professor made from finely ground pumice and different resins they harvested from the trees, but things like shaving were different. The Skipper had lived on the Minnow, so he had a couple of straight razors aboard (leave it to him to be "old school"), but the men had to share one, and the women the other. Since modesty was a luxury they left behind, Mary Ann soon found out that Ginger completely shaved her pubic area, along with her legs and underarms. She told Mary Ann that she had read about it in a fashion magazine: supposedly all the French models did it so that their bikini lines would be smooth. She had convinced, and assisted, Mary Ann to trim her generous bush so that it didn't peek out under the legs of her shorts. This was something she would never have done back home in Kansas. As she was drifting off to sleep, she imagined what the Professor would look like without clothes; and even while almost unconscious: she blushed.

After breakfast and some morning chores, like replenishing the fresh water, they asked the Skipper to go to the lagoon and make sure the signal firewood was still covered and dry. This was a daily chore and he didn't think anything of it; but they were just trying to get him out of camp so they could finish decorating. They arranged all the food on the table, hung the makeshift streamers, and then all went to change into their "party" clothes. Ginger squeezed into the dress she had made from the Minnow's towel; Mary Ann slipped into her least ragged, print dress; the Howells put on the finest clothes from their chest (Mr. Howell even had one of those collapsible top-hats); and the Professor and Gilligan just wore the only clothes they had (but Mr. Howell loaned the Professor a jacket).

When the Skipper re-entered the clearing, they all jumped up and down and yelled "surprise." Mr. Howell started a chorus of "For He's A Jolly Good Fellow," and they all joined in. Everyone slapped him on the back and told him how much they appreciated him and they all gave him some memento that would remind him of all the good things he had done on the island. Gilligan gave him a scary-mask that Skipper had worn to frighten away the headhunters that had once landed on the island. They did their best to convince him that without his wisdom and strength, they would have all perished. By the time they all sat down at the table for a pie-lunch, the Skipper seemed his old jolly self.

Gilligan passed around the pie made from the new berries, and insisted that everyone try some. The Professor wanted to know if he was sure the new berries were edible and safe, and Gilligan assured him, " Mary Ann and I both sampled the berries yesterday, and we're still alive."

"Well, that's good enough for me," chuckled Mr. Howell, as he gulped down a slice, "my this is tasty...so sweet."

"See, I told you," boasted Gilligan as he had a second helping. "These pies are wonderful, Mary Ann; just like you," he added with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Yes, Mary Ann, I concur," the Professor agreed; "and the pies are very tasty also," and he winked at her. If the Professor had consulted his horticultural encyclopedia, he would have recognized the berries as being from the Patchouli plant; an herb thought by many of the native tribes to be a powerful aphrodisiac.

"Why Mary Ann," said Mr. Howell as she cuddled onto Mr. Howell's lap, "you must give me the recipe so I can have our cook bake one."

The Skipper merely nodded his head in agreement as he downed a third slice of the pie, seemingly forgetting all about the news report of the previous day. Ginger shimmied up in front of Skipper with pie juice dripping from her index finger, and very deliberately stuck the finger in her mouth and sucked it clean of the purple berry juice. The towel-dress hugged her curves like a body-stocking as she swayed to the imaginary music in her head and assured him, "I'm going to do a special dance just for you, to show you how much we all appreciate you. I used to perform at private parties before I got my break in Hollywood."

If anyone had been looking at anyone but Ginger, they would have seen Mrs Howell, sitting on her husband's lap, reach her hand down the front of his trousers and fondle his erect penis. Ginger insinuated herself between the Skipper's knees as he sat enthralled by her gyrations. She began to give him a "lap dance" before lap dances had been invented; bending down and rubbing her ass against his groin. She could feel his erection straining against his pants when she pressed against him and her nipples were now clearly hard, as they protruded through the towel. Gilligan was absentmindedly rubbing his crotch, and Mary Ann had stood in front of the Professor and was leaning back against him, as he leaned against the table. She could feel his hard-on pressing against her ass cheeks, and the sensation was causing her head to spin. She had never confided to Ginger that she was still a virgin, so she was now in uncharted territory. She had a boyfriend back in Kansas, but he had never pressured her to go beyond French-kissing.

Ginger leaned over and pressed her luscious lips against the Skipper's, and she slipped her tongue between his teeth. She swayed her hips from side to side, reached up to her shoulders and began to peel the sheath down her body. When her breasts sprang free of the material, the four men gave a collective sigh. They were not huge, probably only about 34 B; but they were perfectly round and capped with the pinkest areola they had ever seen. Her erect nipples were like red jellybeans, and were abnormally long. The Skipper, shaking, extended his hands, grasped the dress, and assisted Ginger in rolling it down over her shapely hips, until it dropped to the ground. None of the men had ever seen a shaved pubic mound before and just stared at Ginger's crotch, as she continued to shimmy and sway in front of the Skipper; now totally naked. Her nude form was the perfect hour-glass figure, and the men seemed hypnotized by her perfection.

Mary Ann, her heart rapidly beating, casually reached behind her and started to rub the Professor's penis through his pants. She had never even felt the outline of a man's organ before and was amazed at how hard it was. Gilligan sidled over to Mary Ann, and unexpectedly brought both his hands up to the front of her plain dress and cupped her impressive breasts. She involuntarily moaned, "ohhhh," as she squeezed the Professors cock.

Ginger, meanwhile, had dropped to her knees in front of the Skipper, and was busy unbuttoning, and unzipping his pants. He raised up off the chair to allow her to tug his trousers down his legs, freeing his erection. Her hand tried to encircle his hard cock, but her fingers could not reach all the way around its girth. His tool was not that long, perhaps six or seven inches; but it was as thick as a soda can. Ginger lowered her head into his lap, and as her red hair cascaded around his groin; stuck her tongue out and licked the pre-cum from his cock slit.

The Skipper grunted and reached down to grasp her tiny waist. The powerful man actually lifted her slim body off the ground, saying, " Ginger, you are the most gorgeous creature I have ever seen. I've dreamed of this since you first boarded the Minnow." He lifted her up as if she were a doll, and she extended her wonderful legs to his sides, as he began to lower her onto his lap. As her body descended, she reached down with both hands and spread her pussy lips wide apart. She felt his bulbous crown nudge against her open slit, spreading her cunt lips wide. Without any warning, he forced her down onto his pole; completely impaling her.

As her cunt stretched wider than it had ever been, Ginger shrieked, "oh my God Skipper."

He sat back in his chair with Ginger straddling his lap; her incredibly long legs wrapped around his wide waist. He sat there for a couple minutes, enjoying how the walls of her pussy gripped his huge cock. Her cunt hugged him like an unbelievably tight condom. She couldn't quite lock her ankles because of his large waistline, but she dug her heels into his ass cheeks; as he grabbed her perfectly round ass in his rough hands and began to thrust up into her.

"Fuck me Skipper! Fuck me, you big hunk of a man," she groaned, throwing her head straight back so that her silky red hair hung down to her ass.

The Skipper hardly needed to be coaxed, as he jammed his cock into her wet hole. He leaned forward and took her right nipple between his teeth and gently nibbled. Her cunt tightened around his cock, and he felt her body shudder as she came in his arms. He glanced over her shoulder and saw Gilligan standing with his pants down, now jerking his erect prick as fast as he could, as he watched Ginger being fucked.

"Not bad," thought the Skipper, as he noticed Gilligan's not unimpressive eight inch cock.

He shouted, "come on over here, Little Buddy, and bring the bowl of coconut oil with you. There's something I want you to try. I'm going to share my good fortune with my First Mate."

Gilligan, wanting nothing more than to get closer to a naked Ginger; removed his pants completely, grabbed the bowl from the table, and shuffled over to the Skipper; never taking his hand off his cock.

"Well, don't just stand there Little Buddy," the Skipper implored, dip your cock in that oil, and I'll spread her cheeks apart for you. You don't mind, do you Ginger."