Before beginning the second episode let's go back. During the run of the series the Professor was always called Professor. Does anyone out there know what his name was? If so, speak up and win a prize, well not really a prize except knowing you saw the one episode where his name was given. OK, enough of the trivia and on with the story.
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The second day:
Again, as was normal in the south seas, the sun rose bright and warm. Soft breezes from the ocean gently wafted across the island and Maryanne was the first. She had the night before found her small bag and silently, so as to disturb the others, crawled from the temporary shelter and disappeared beyond the line of palm trees. Checking to make sure she was well hidden she opened her bag and retrieved her still slightly damp under garment, the top of her not so revealing bikini. Casting aside her badly torn blouse she covered herself feeling a slight chill from it's dampness. Instants Maryanne felt her nipples harden and waited until the fabric warmed enough for them to subside. After using a bush for her morning toilet she returned to the beach.
"Good morning Maryanne," Gilligan greeted with his lopsided smile.
"Hello Gilligan," she replied. Once again Maryanne looked at him still remembering what all the girls back in Kansas had said about the homely guys. She noticed him looking and quickly shifted her eyes to his crotch. There seemed to be no sign that he would be any better endowed than other men, but of course being a virgin she really wouldn't know.
"Good morning Mrs. Howell," Gilligan greeted the older woman as she immerged from the shelter.
"Oh there you are Gilligan. Would you be so kind as to direct me to the ladies powder room? I need to fix my make-up," Mrs. Thurston Howell III said in her most lady like manner. Of course what she really needed was to relive herself, but it just wouldn't do to say such a thing.
"Gee, I'm sorry Mrs. Howell but we don't have one of them things. I could show you to some real nice bushes," he said in all the innocence he seemed to have.
"Oh dear," she exclaimed. "Might as well make the best of things but the Skipper will hear if this. Very well young man, lead on."
With her head held high Mrs. Howell followed the skinny homely young deck hand into the jungle. After ten minutes Gilligan paused and pointed.
"Over there Mrs. Howell. See those big bushes? If you go behind them nobody will be able to see you powder your nose," Gilligan said confident that was what she wanted.
As Mrs. Howell started to move she found they were between two palm trees set very close together. She had to turn sideways to pass and in doing so her very ample chest bushed firmly over his. A sudden electric charged passed through her body despite the obvious difference in their ages. Mrs. Thurston Howell III might well be almost old enough to be his mother she still wasn't without feelings and desires as she felt her nipples swell inside her thin tight bra cups.
She retreated behind the bushes Gilligan had pointed out, raised her skirt and squatted to empty herself. Feeling much better she called out to him.
"Gilligan, could you please come assist me? I seem to be having a slight problem." Even in her suddenly arouse state Mrs. Howell could do nothing less than act and sound the lady most thought she was. If only they knew the real her, she mused silently.
Aw, now you wonder. It seems not all that many years back, before meeting and marring the disgustingly Thurston Howell III, Mrs. Howell had been rather common. While never could she have said to be a whore, she did take on many gentleman callers and give them the pleasure of her flesh. In the years they had been married she had become quite the socialite while at the same time exhausting her rich husband. Now her sex life had grown almost non-existent and she still had needs.
"Gosh Mrs. Howell, how could any woman have a problem with their make-up?" Gilligan asked as he came around the bush she was behind. He suddenly stopped short and found himself just inches from her kneeling form.
"Gilligan have you ever been with a woman before," she asked looking up at him.
"Well sure, Mrs. Howell. I'm with you right now."
"That's not quite what I meant young man. I mean have you ever slept with a woman? Are you still a virgin?"
"Gosh no I'm not a virgin. I've never slept with a woman before but I've had sex with some." Gilligan's mind went back a couple of days when he saw her unconscious in the cabin. He visualized the swelling of her breasts captured inside her wet blouse and felt himself becoming aroused. That's when he really noticed her blouse was now not quite fully buttoned, but partly open exposing some of her cleavage. "Why do you ask?" but he thought he already knew the answer.
