Gilligan was surprised to see a blanket spread on the ground for their fifth date. "Are we having a picnic?"
Ginger smiled. "Not exactly. Please sit down."
He figured she meant on the blanket rather than in a chair. "Should I take off my shoes?"
"Well, it's a start."
He blushed a little but slipped off his white sneakers and sat Indian style on the blanket.
He expected her to sit next to him but instead she turned on the radio, quickly going through all the stations they could pick up on the island. Eventually she sighed, "Well, this will have to do."
The hypnotic instrumental seemed to be what he'd learned that summer was called "psychedelic" music, the latest kind of rock & roll. It was unimaginable three years ago, when Mosquitomania was all the rage.
As Ginger turned to face him, her movements became a dance. He thought of her native dance in Belly Dancers from Bali Bali, which he saw three times, and the even sexier rain dance in The Rain Dancers of Rango Rango, which he saw five times. This was her sexiest dance of all, and it was just for him. His eyes tried to follow her eyes, and her arms, legs, belly, hips, and bottom.
Tonight she was wearing a leopard sarong. Not from a real leopard. A lion had once washed ashore, but the Professor said that there no cats native to the island. Ginger liked leopard patterns.
Gilligan suddenly remembered when Mary Ann got a bump on her head and thought she was Ginger. She wanted to rehearse a love scene with Gilligan. And she was wearing one of Ginger's outfits, cut down to her petite size. The leopard top covered one shoulder, like this sarong, but it exposed Mary Ann's stomach. And the leopard skirt had a slit up the side, exposing one tan, surprisingly long leg.
Gilligan had felt very conflicted then. He was very attracted to Mary Ann in that outfit, and she was as forward and flirty as Ginger, maybe even more, because she was living out her image of Ginger. But it didn't seem fair to do anything with her when she wasn't herself. The thing was, the Skipper insisted that Gilligan had to distract her, while Ginger prepared to impersonate Mary Ann. So he sent Gilligan back to her. Gilligan let her smooch him for hours, till dinnertime. Except for the guilt, it felt great. But he was pretty sure she didn't remember it, so he wasn't sure if it counted. Sometimes he wondered what it would've been like if she'd kissed him as herself. And lately he'd been wondering what the real Ginger would've done with him if he'd given in back then.
Ginger had a leopard print bathing suit, too, but Mary Ann hadn't got her hands on that, so Ginger still wore it sometimes. It was a one-piece, but he'd once dreamed of her in a leopard bikini, when he was a dictator. He'd ogled her in his dream, in a way he never would've in real life. This sarong was more modest of course, just showing off her shoulder and arms.
That is until she started unwrapping herself. She began by slowly exposing the other shoulder and then carefully sliding the fabric down to and then over her plump breasts. She danced all the while and kept dancing. His mind stopped wandering to the past and he gazed at her, mesmerized.
Well, he did think of touching and kissing her chest the last couple nights, and he was eager to do that again, even if it frustrated him with vague desires. But he was also simply enjoying this private performance.
She slipped the sarong lower, somehow not tripping on its increasing length. Her stomach was exposed now, but she kept going. He let out a little moan as he saw a waistband and gradually leopard print panties, not unlike the bikini bottoms in his dictator dream.
She let the sarong sink to the grass and still she kept up her psychedelic dance, now in just her underpants. Gilligan was awed by her untamed beauty.
And then the disc jockey's voice came on. She laughed and shut off the radio. He couldn't help looking at the way her spotted panties hugged her curvy bottom. And then she turned and flung herself onto the blanket. "Well, Gilligan, are you ready to take your clothes off?"
"I can't dance like that!"
She laughed. "Few people can. But you can take off your hat and shirt sitting down. Unless you want my help."
"You can do my hat." He was back to wearing his own clothes. Mr. Howell's hand-me-down suit needed to be washed after Gilligan wore it so many times, but he hadn't yet got up the courage to ask Mary Ann. Maybe Ginger could do it when it was her turn to do laundry again.
Ginger plucked his hat off his head and ran her fingers through his hair.
"That feels nice, but it makes it harder to take my shirt off."
"Sorry."
Gilligan peeled his red rugby shirt off. He was pretty comfortable going topless, even though he didn't have a muscular physique like Duke Williams or Tongo the ape man. Ginger had seen him without his shirt before, like when he dressed as natives and stuff.
Of course, it was different when she was topless, too, especially when she put her arms around him for a tight hug. "Wow, oh, wow!" he exclaimed, as he felt their chests press together. He wasn't even sure whose heart was beating fast, maybe both of theirs.
They kissed passionately and he knew this still wasn't birds & bees stuff, but they were definitely getting closer.
And then she did that back scratch she did to him early on, when Mr. Howell sent her to find out about a turtle, so he melted, but this time sitting rather than standing. She sucked his tongue, too, and he felt like he'd give her anything she wanted.
He could feel her easing them into a horizontal position. She was pretty strong for a girl, or maybe his body was being very cooperative. Her hand strayed down to his belt.
"Please, Ginger!" he cried, not even sure what he was pleading for.
"Gilligan," she whispered in his ear, "I want to see you naked."
"Are you sure? I mean, I'm so skinny."
"I'm sure," she said, undoing his belt.
He groaned but didn't stop her. She unzipped his bell-bottoms, too, and he gasped when her hand lingered on his crotch.
She kissed his cheek and said, "You need to lift your bottom to get your pants off."
She was right of course. It would've been different if he was standing. He wondered if the world's greatest lover would've taken his own pants off or let the girl do it. He probably would've undressed her, but Gilligan wasn't feeling that bold.
"Let me do it," he said and she nodded. He awkwardly wriggled out of his bell-bottoms, expecting her to laugh. She was smiling when he shyly looked at her as he knelt in just his boxer shorts, but it wasn't an amused smile.
"Oh, Gilligan," she sighed.
He didn't think his scrawny legs were anything to write home about, but then he realized her eyes were higher.
He coughed. "Sorry, I get this way around you lately, especially when we fool around. And the way you were dancing, well."
She reached out and stroked his hand. "You don't have to apologize. I'm very flattered."
He didn't tell her that she'd done this to him years before they met. He had the feeling she knew that by now. He let her guide his hand along her almost naked body for awhile, till she shivered and said, "There are a few ways to remove a lady's unmentionables."
"I can think of one to start with, he said, suddenly feeling bold. His free hand slid under her bottom and lifted it from the blanket, as his other hand gently tugged free of hers and moved to the front of her waistband.
"Naughty, naughty boy!" she scolded, although her eyes were half closed and her cheeks flushed.
"You're a naughty girl to be fooling around like this," he pointed out.
She giggled and then gasped as he eased her panties down her very long legs. He waited till her underwear was lying on the blanket before he looked at what he'd just revealed.
The Skipper had told him that women had a space between their legs that the part of men that got hard could go inside, and Skinny Mulligan had said something similar, although he'd never seen it and the Skipper had. Neither of them had gone into detail, so Gilligan hadn't known what to expect. But looking where Ginger's now slightly spread legs joined, he had to exclaim, "Ginger, you're beautiful! Like a tropical flower!"
"Oh, Gilligan," she sighed.
"Can I see more?"
She opened her legs wider and he felt overwhelmed by the colors and curves. To think that such a funny-looking part of him could join with such beauty! It was exciting and intimidating at the same time.
"Gilligan, please lie next to me."
He did and she kissed his mouth. Their tongues danced and he imagined more intimate parts dancing.
He felt her easing down his boxers and then taking him in hand, doing what he did to himself sometimes when he was alone and thinking of her or Mary Ann. She seemed to know just how to touch him, although her movements were slower and more teasing than his own rushed, frantic motions. He caressed and squeezed her breasts with both hands, as they hungrily French kissed.
"Gingergingerginger!" he urged her when she sped up.
She now kissed his ear and murmured, "Do you want me, Gilligan?"
"Yes!"
"Good, because I want you. And I think tomorrow night I'll claim you."
"OH WOW!" Gilligan felt like his mind exploded as she made his pleasure erupt like a volcano.
She waited till the earth stopped shaking and his breathing returned to almost normal before she took his hand and said, "Let me take you on a little preview tour of tomorrow's journey."
His fingers explored inside her, as they necked and she explained what he was touching and what she was feeling. Halfway through, she lost her calm manner and was moaning things like, "Just a little more, Gilligan!" and "So good, Gilligan!"
And by the end of it, he was so excited that she had to help him out again. Afterwards, they both lay on the blanket, exhausted. But it was after midnight, so they reluctantly got dressed again. Except she left off her leopard panties, and that was the last thing he thought of when he passed out in his hammock.