Important A/U:

This story is Rated M because it deals with Mary Ann and Gilligan getting married and what happens on their wedding night. There is already a lovely story on the board called The Wedding And Bedding of Willy Gilligan, by Branmuffinpower, which has a much shyer version of Gilligan than this story has. If you think you might be offended by the thought of Gilligan and Mary Ann engaging in marital relations then please don't read any further. If you do read on, understand that my intentions in writing this story were purely to entertain and hopefully amuse and not for any shock factor. I have a history of writing M rated fiction in my other fandom and wanted to try it out with Gilligan's Island as they are all such wonderful characters.

I don't think it would be out of the ordinary for Gilligan and Mary Ann to slowly fall in love as the years went by and to eventually get married. Mary Ann is a traditionalist and Gilligan would also want to do things properly.

I shan't say anymore!

# # # #

"I now pronounce you Husband and Wife."

Seven simple little words that marked the end, finally, of Mary Ann Summers' life as a single girl. She had finally done it. She had finally made Gilligan notice her- properly- after six long years of being stranded on this desert island. It hadn't been easy, and at times she had thought about giving up. But gradually, over time, she'd succeeded in reminding him of how he used to feel, in the days when they were first washed ashore, the Minnow wrecked and their hopes dashed, when they were still new to each other and every day was a voyage of discovery and his affection for her had been simple and honest and pure.

Mary Ann Summers was now Mary Ann Gilligan.

Not that the day had gone smoothly. It was Gilligan, after all. He hadn't changed a lot in all the years they'd been shipwrecked. He'd even 'lost' the ring several times in the days leading up to the wedding. Ginger had even mischievously suggested this act was deliberate, that it meant maybe he wasn't ready to get wed.

"Will he ever be ready to get wed?" Mary Ann had sighed. But when she remembered how he'd proposed on New Year's Eve, drunk on the Howell's champagne (and not for the first time), she had to tell herself yes. Willie Gilligan was as ready as he would ever be.

She thought back to that night. After the countdown and Auld Lang Syne and several champagne toasts, Gilligan had been in a childishly silly mood and was attempting to climb a tree- "so I can see the New Year better." As though it were over the horizon somewhere.

Mary Ann had pulled at his pants leg. "Get down from there, Gilligan! You'll fall and hurt yourself."

"I'm not gonna fall!" the first mate had shouted rather loudly. "I know what I'm..."

And of course, he'd fallen. Thankfully not very far, but the way he'd sprawled in the sand had made it look worse than it was.

"Gilligan! Are you hurt?" Mary Ann had dropped to her knees and bent over him, pushing his hat off his face and patting his cheek to get him to open his eyes and look at her.

When he finally did, he just peeped one eye open and grinned up at her. "Did I fall?"

"Of course you fell. I told you you would." Mary Ann stroked his thick dark hair.

"Because I always fall, right, Mary Ann?" he rubbed his head against her hand like a cat.

"Yes, Gilligan. You're forever falling."

He'd looked up at her then with such an endearing smile that Mary Ann's heart did a backflip. "I think I've fallen for you, Mary Ann," he said, then giggled. "Mary Ann, I think we should get married."

The next day, when he'd sobered up, Mary Ann had started teasing him about his drunken proposal whilst sprawled like a starfish at the bottom of the tree when he'd fixed her with a solemn gaze and said, "Oh, no, Mary Ann. I meant it. I think we should get married."

"You do?" She'd gasped, thrilled but nervous at the same time. After all, this was Gilligan. He was apt to change his mind at any time.

"Sure I do. You've been my best friend for six years. That's what a man and a woman who've been friends for a long time do, right? They get married." He'd shrugged, as though he'd reached a simple and logical conclusion.

Okay, so it hadn't been the most overly romantic gesture and he'd looked a little pained what with being hungover and all, but it was a genuine, honest sentiment and Mary Ann hadn't turned him down. In fact, she'd thrown her arms around his neck and kissed him (causing much embarrassment on his part), and then she'd been on Cloud Nine for days afterwards and had to keep pinching herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming.

The rest of the castaways had greeted the news with amazement, then sheer joy. Jonas Grumby had picked his little buddy up in a bear hug and whirled him around until the hat spun clean off his head. And Mrs. Howell, of course, had been delighted. At last, some proper gossip! The only thing she regretted was that she wasn't at the Country Club to tell all her friends and associates the good news. So instead she went around telling all the castaways several times over, asking them each time to pretend they hadn't heard yet. After their initial joy, the Skipper and the Professor grew bored of this game very quickly but Ginger was delighted to play along, pretending to be different snooty socialite ladies at each visit from Mrs. Howell. This game went on all afternoon, and from then on, Lovey Howell took to eyeing the happy couple up and down as though she were assessing their potential for breeding like she would a couple of prize racehorses.

Mary Ann Gilligan. She wondered if she'd ever get used to the name.

"You may now kiss the bride," the Skipper said, beaming from ear to ear, a definite twinkle in his bright blue eyes. No doubt this bit was going to be good.

"Aw, do I...?" Gilligan protested. "In front of everybody?"

A ripple of laughter went around the rest of the gathered castaways, but this time, unlike the time he'd fake-married Mary Ann, Gilligan didn't attempt to escape from her clutches. He took her by the shoulders, lowered his head and gently pressed his lips to his new wife's, resulting in a wave of applause from their friends and a hearty cry of "Bravo!" from Mr. Howell.

"Thank you, Gilligan," Mary Ann whispered, her face tingling, although she wasn't sure why she felt she had to thank him for something he was supposed to do.

After the ceremony, Mary Ann and her new husband joined the rest of the castaways for a celebration which started at their camp site but gradually moved down to the beach and extended into the late afternoon and then into the early evening. As the others laughed and drank toast after toast, Mary Ann danced with Gilligan, her head resting on his shoulder and the flowers in her hair sending sweet fragrances up his nose which made him hold her closer.

In the days leading up to the wedding, the castaways had set to work building a Honeymoon Hut far away from all the other huts that would lend the newly weds some much needed privacy for their wedding night. Of course, The Wedding Night became the source of endless amusement for Jonas Grumby and resulted in several knowing winks and nudges directed at Gilligan as the bashful first mate surveyed the new hut and scratched his head at the thought of spending the whole night there with Mary Ann instead of reading comic books in his own hammock while the Skipper snored below.

Now, as it approached twilight, breathless and excited and scared all at once, Mary Ann pulled Gilligan by the hand along the meandering jungle paths until at last they stood before the beautiful little Honeymoon Hut which was to be their new home for the next few days.

There were torches glowing by the front door and garlands of flowers strewn from the eaves and a banner made from a torn sheet with writing scrawled from a piece of burnt wood.

It said-

CONGRATULATIONS MR. AND MRS. GILLIGAN

"Oh, Gilligan. It's perfect!" Mary Ann said quietly, gazing at the little hut in awe, her heart beating fast in her chest.

Gilligan had gotten married in a borrowed shirt from the Professor and a slightly too big suit jacket from Mr. Howell. But he was still in his faded jeans and sneakers and his ever present hat sat jauntily on the back of his head. He clutched Mary Ann's hand tightly and tugged at the collar of the unfamiliar shirt. Then he swallowed hard. He had never felt so unsure of himself in his life, and that was saying something.

"Well, Gilligan, I guess this is it," said Mary Ann. Seeing the frightened look on her new husband's face, she turned to him and smiled, touched by his wide blue eyes. "Don't be scared," she said softly, wanting desperately to reassure him. "Remember, this is all new to me, too."

She lifted her face, hoping he would kiss her without being prompted.

Gilligan hesitated. He was a married man now, and he knew something was expected of him. He tried to overcome his nerves. He put his arms gently around his new bride and for the second time that day, he pressed his lips against Mary Ann's and closed his eyes.

Mary Ann found the warmth of Gilligan's kiss and the shy way in which he delivered it, very arousing. She murmured softly against his mouth, snaking her tanned bare arms around his neck and instinctively pressing her body against his. She was wearing a dress of Ginger's that she had shortened and altered to fit so well that it left little to the imagination where her curves were concerned. She hoped Gilligan found her attractive. The only real indication that he liked the way she looked came at the beginning of the wedding ceremony when he had turned to see her being escorted down the 'aisle' (a strip of sand marked out by garlands of flowers) by Mr. Howell. Gilligan's eyes had widened and then flickered quickly up and down the length of her body, a look that sent an excited shiver down her spine, but also a look that she would have missed if she hadn't been watching him intently.

She wondered what was going through his mind now. Did he fully realise what the wedding night entailed?

Gilligan stopped kissing her and opened his eyes. "Mary Ann," he said, his voice sounding somewhat husky, "did I tell you how beautiful you looked?"

"Oh, Gilligan, thank you," she sighed. There she was again, thanking him! "And you look very handsome."

Unused to compliments, Gilligan pulled a face. "Come on, let's go inside," he said, changing the subject. He went to open the door, but turned when Mary Ann spoke up.

"The man is meant to carry his new bride over the threshold," she smiled coyly, fluttering her eyelashes.

"He is?" Gilligan looked her over. "Boy, Mary Ann, it's a good thing you're small."

Mary Ann shook her head and sighed. No points for tact or romanticism- let's hope he fares better with carrying me over the threshold.

Gilligan came over and stood beside Mary Ann. He wrapped one arm around her torso, then as she draped her arm around his shoulders he bent and hooked his other arm around the back of her knees. He took a deep breath, repositioned his feet and hauled her up into the air. Mary Ann squealed in delight and wrapped both arms around his neck, straightening his hat for him before it fell off. For all his usual clumsiness, he had quite effortlessly swept her off her feet, and looked rather proud of himself for doing it.

Gilligan carried Mary Ann across the threshold of their new hut, and he didn't even bang her head against the door as they went through. Mary Ann thought this boded well for the start of their marriage. Once inside, he set her down gently, and the two of them stood there and surveyed their surroundings.

There were fragrant flowers everywhere. Mary Ann guessed that Mrs. Howell and Ginger had been responsible for those. There was a bottle of champagne cooling in a pail of spring water on top of a small chest of drawers made out of bamboo and palm leaves, along with a bowl of fresh fruit. There was a torch burning with a muted orange glow. There was a small cordoned off area to the right, but the main thing in the room, and the one thing that neither of them could tear their eyes away from, was the marital bed.

Someone had spent a lot of time constructing this masterpiece. It was twice, maybe even three times the size of a regular bed. Mary Ann was vaguely embarrassed at the thought of the Skipper and the Professor making the frame for a bed they knew was going to be used for romantic purposes. Not only that, they knew exactly who it was going to be used by. She went red at the thought of imagined conversations between the two men. The bed looked sturdy, in any case. Mary Ann wondered if they thought she and Gilligan were going to be jumping up and down on it or something. Although, that did sound like fun, and maybe it would break the ice a little.

She wondered what they'd made the mattress out of, and it seemed Gilligan had had the same thought. He went over to the bed and pulled the covers back. Two regular mattresses had been joined together down the middle. He pushed his hands down on them, testing them for comfort. "Do you think they came from the Howells' hut?" He wondered out loud. "They sure are soft."

"I don't know," Mary Ann replied. And I don't care. As long as the whole thing holds up. Blushing again, she looked around the room once more until she spotted her 'overnight bag' perched on a stool in the corner of the little cordoned off area.

"Ssh," said Gilligan suddenly, even though neither of them had been speaking. "Can you hear that? It's the waterfall."

Mary Ann tipped her dark head prettily to one side, her lips slightly parted as she listened for the gentle rush of water that was characteristic of the waterfall. "Oh, yes, I can hear it!" she said, clasping her hands together with glee. "Oh, Gilligan, how romantic!"

Gilligan found himself smiling at the sight of his new bride's obvious delight. It tickled something in his chest. "Is everything going to be romantic now that we're married?" he asked.

"Yes, Gilligan, everything's going to be romantic now that we're married. Don't you think so, too?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I think you'll have to teach me. You know, how to be romantic, and stuff."

Mary Ann approached him slowly, swaying her hips and hoping her walk looked sexy. He was certainly looking at her, in any case. "'And stuff'?" she teased. She was right in front of him now. She lifted her hand and lightly trailed one finger down the front of the Professor's shirt. "What would I know about 'stuff', Gilligan? I'm as new to this as you are." She batted her long, dark eyelashes at him, slipped Mr. Howell's baggy suit jacket off his slim shoulders and let the expensive tailored garment fall discarded to the floor.

Gilligan swallowed hard and stared at Mary Ann. He had never seen her quite like this. The dress she was wearing clung to her curves and yet gave nothing away. Shy though he was, he knew that being married meant that now he was allowed to look. He swept his gaze over her bare shoulders as the suit jacket slipped down his arms. Her skin looked softer than ever, her tan glowed in the orange torch light. It reminded him of caramel. What was this urge he was feeling? Should he act on it?

Without giving it another thought, Gilligan bent his head and kissed Mary Ann's neck.

Mary Ann gasped. The touch of his lips at her throat caused an intense bolt of electricity that sent a shockwave rippling right down to her toes which curled up tight in the tips of her shoes. Her head fell back and she moaned softly, gripping his shoulders with both hands. "Oh, Gilligan..." she whispered.

Something in her tone made him want to kiss her more. Although he had never done any of this before, he somehow knew that she'd probably like it if he took her earlobe between his lips and nibbled on it as if it were a sweet little nut. So that's what he did.

Mary Ann held her breath and shivered with delight in his arms. Oh, this was wonderful! Oh, this was so worth waiting six years for!

He raised his head and looked at her. Her big liquid eyes were looking right back at him. He felt a strange stirring in the pit of his stomach. His legs actually began to feel a little unsteady.

Mary Ann really didn't want to wait any longer. That look on his face was doing things to her that made her giddy with longing. "Gilligan," she murmured, toying with one of the buttons of the Professor's shirt. "why don't you open the champagne while I slip into something more comfortable?"

"Okay," Gilligan uttered in reply. He dropped his arms to his sides, releasing Mary Ann from his careful embrace. He looked as though he was having a hard time concentrating on anything. He watched her silently as she crossed the room to the small hidden area.

Mary Ann hoped he was admiring her rear.

Gilligan shook his head briefly to clear his thoughts. He looked around and located the champagne bottle sticking out of the bucket of cool spring water which stood on the chest of drawers against the wall. He pulled the bottle out and shook the water off it. As he began twisting off the wiry metal top, he turned and looked back at the partition that Mary Ann was 'slipping into something more comfortable' behind. He was rewarded with the sight of her dress flying over the top of it. He gulped, his fingers fumbling, and nearly dropped the entire bottle.

He carried on staring at the partition. Mary Ann was shuffling around behind it and he wondered if she was naked. Then he realised that now they were married, there was every chance he was going to get to see Mary Ann naked. Then he realised that if he was going to get to see her naked, then it was only fair that she would probably want to see him naked too.

Naked, naked, naked. He couldn't stop thinking of that word. Mary Ann. Naked. He nearly dropped the bottle again. He scrabbled at the little wire top and pulled it off. Then he began twisting the cork, huffing and puffing, his eyes never leaving the partition.

When Mary Ann stuck just one smooth, bare leg out from behind the partition and began stroking the edge up and down with the sole of her foot while calling his name like a siren of the deep, the cork flew out of the bottle with an almighty pop and bounced off the ceiling, landing on the floor at Mary Ann's feet.

"Why, Gilligan," she purred seductively, as though she'd been taking lessons from Ginger, or even remembering what it was like when she thought she was Ginger. "Save some of that for me!"

Nervously, Gilligan poured out two coconut-shell cups of frothy, bubbly champagne. Before Mary Ann appeared in her entirety he downed one of the cups for Dutch courage and then poured another quickly, blinking and wiping tears from his eyes as the bubbles began bursting in his brain, immediately making him giddy and giving him a sudden urge to laugh hysterically.

I'm married! Me- Willie Gilligan! I'm married! Mom, Dad, I'm married! I'm married, and to the most beautiful, wonderful woman I ever met in my entire life!

He was in the process of lifting the second cup to his lips when Mary Ann appeared, wearing the tiniest, floatiest, sheerest little scrap of fabric he had ever seen. He vaguely recalled the phrase 'babydoll nightie'- from where, he had no idea. Why, there was barely enough material to cover her, and even then, she was hardly what you'd call covered. Why he could see just about...just about...

His eyes travelled slowly from her face to her neck to her chest. Oh my Gosh, I can see her...

Gilligan's mind went blank and he lost all concentration. The champagne went down the wrong way and he spluttered and coughed. The rest of it spilled down the front of the Professor's shirt. Gilligan wiped frantically at the spill but only succeeded in spreading it further. The inside of his nose tingled with bubbles and his eyes streamed with tears. Even so, he couldn't tear his eyes away from Mary Ann's barely concealed form. "Ma..." he spluttered. "Ma...Mary A...Ma..."

"What's the matter, Gilligan? Don't you like what you see?" Mary Ann smiled, gazing at him as seductively as she could, having perfected the pose a million times in front of the mirror while Ginger looked on in appreciation.

Gilligan nodded as though his head were on a spring. He held his hand out and offered Mary Ann a cup of champagne. "Champa...champa..." he gabbled, transfixed by the sight of her thinly veiled breasts.

"Gilligan! It's rude to stare," she chided him gently, accepting the cup of champagne.

"Sorry," he mumbled, tearing his eyes away at last.

Mary Ann sighed and laughed. "Oh, Gilligan," she pouted, stepping closer to him as he tried hard to keep his eyes averted. "I'm only teasing. Of course you can look. We're married, remember?"

She lifted her cup in a toast. "To us," she said. "To a long and happy marriage."

"Um..." said Gilligan, raising his cup the same way. "To us!"

As he went to down the champagne in one, Mary Ann put her hand on his arm. "Not so fast! This is a special toast, Gilligan," she said, linking her arm through his. "Now, drink it like this." She pulled her cup towards her lips thinking he would do the same, but instead his arm moved with hers and he tipped his champagne all down her front.

"Gilligan!" she cried as the fizzy liquid soaked into the flimsy fabric that barely covered her breasts.

"Sorry!" he apologised, and began frantically brushing at her front before he realised with a sudden jolt that he was actually touching her breasts. He gasped out loud. His arm flew back and knocked into hers and both cups of champagne went spilling and clattering to the floor.

"Oh, Gilligan." Mary Ann sighed. So much for trying to be seductive.

Gilligan was now tugging desperately at the collar of the Professor's shirt. He looked lost and awkward in the unfamiliar item of clothing. Mary Ann went over and put her arms around him. They were both covered in champagne now, so what did it matter?

"I love you, Gilligan," she murmured, kissing him gently on the cheek. "You don't have to be embarrassed in front of me. I'm your wife now. I love you. You can look, you can touch, you can do anything you want. I'm here for you. I love you."

When his arms went around her at last, she felt him cling to her as though she were a life preserver. "I love you too, Mary Ann," he said, his voice cracking a little in the middle. "I just didn't want to do anything wrong and I've already messed up twice and we haven't even done anything yet!"

"Shh," she soothed. "It's all right. I don't know what I'm doing either. I guess all we can do is...well, just start, and see what happens."

"You look so beautiful, Mary Ann," he sighed. "I never saw any woman as beautiful as you. Not even Ginger."

The fact that she and Ginger were the only two young and eligible females on the island didn't matter- Mary Ann's heart melted at his words. "You don't have to be embarrassed any more," she repeated gently. "We've got tonight and tomorrow night and every night for the rest of our lives to figure out how to get it right."

Gilligan looked happier now. He pulled away from the embrace and looked down at his champagne soaked front. "Guess I better take these off, huh," he mused.

"Here, let me," his new wife smiled. As she began unbuttoning the Professor's shirt she saw that underneath it Gilligan was wearing his old grey T-shirt. She laughed when she saw it.

"I just felt more comfortable with my own clothes on," Gilligan explained as she ran her hands up and underneath it onto his bare stomach, making him squirm. "Ugh...Mary Ann, that tickles!"

"Mmm, and we all know how ticklish you are," she grinned, tickling him even more, pulling his shirt out of his jeans and exposing his torso, enjoying the sight of his stomach muscles clenching defensively.

"Mary Ann! Stoo-oopp!" Gilligan cried out like a little boy while his new wife tugged and pulled at his clothing, dislodging his hat in the process. They tussled all over the room, laughing, until Mary Ann had managed to remove both shirts plus his hat and he finally stood bare chested and panting with exertion in the middle of the room, his arms held out to ward off any more tickling. "No more, Mary Ann. Please!"

Mary Ann, equally breathless and with her wet breasts heaving, gazed at Gilligan hungrily. Maybe he was a little on the skinny side but he was in good shape, not an ounce of surplus fat anywhere. He had nice arms too, and a good, lean set of muscles in his shoulders. His belly was flat, and his waist was narrow. He was a good armful.

She glanced further down, feeling bold and unabashed. His jeans clung to his slender hips, and, oh my Lord...there was definitely something there in front that hadn't been there earlier. She blinked, and the blood rushed to her head and made her feel giddy.

Gilligan saw her looking. He felt her eyes burning into him. He felt odd, disjointed. There was a strange fire in the pit of his stomach, and one even further down, which got worse when he saw how her babydoll negligee stuck damply to her breasts and how her nipples had gone hard.

Her nipples.

Naked.

Her hard, naked nipples.

Gilligan's head began to swim. What was going on? He stared at Mary Ann helplessly. He stared at her breasts. He stared at her bare, tanned legs and then he stared at the hem of the negligee which was like a soft feather boa just skimming the tops of her smooth, caramel coloured thighs. The fire in his groin began burning out of control. He had never experienced anything like it. Without thinking, acting purely on an animal impulse he had no desire to quash or control, Gilligan crossed the room in two strides and kissed Mary Ann hard, catching them both by surprise.

After a second or two in which Mary Ann was stunned into immobility by the normally shy Gilligan's wanton display of ardour, she threw her arms around him and returned the kiss with equal passion, devouring her husband's mouth like a lioness. Her hands raced over his bare back, kneading and rubbing and caressing the undulating muscles beneath his skin. She pushed him awkwardly back towards the bed and soon Gilligan lay flat out across the mattresses with Mary Ann astride him, his head gripped in both of her hands, his thick hair entangled in her fingers, their mouths locked firmly together, wet tongues sliding in and out.

Gilligan's hands flailed wildly either side of Mary Ann. The fires raged all through him but he was still scared to touch her in case he got it wrong. He finally put his hands on her shoulders, but she wriggled and made him move them further down.

"Touch me, Gilligan," she whispered against his mouth. "I want you to. Please!"

The flimsy fabric of the negligee bunched beneath his fingers. He went giddy at the feel of her warm skin underneath. His fingers flexed, pulling the fabric further and further up her hips until the feather boa hem was up around her waist and his searching fingertips finally touched skin- hot, silky skin. His hands trembled, but that one touch of skin was enough. His palms flattened against her hips and slid their way over her flanks and onto her buttocks where he encountered more and more and more bare, soft, smooth silky skin.

Oh my Gosh...he thought wildly through the haze. She isn't wearing anything underneath...

Mary Ann abruptly rolled off him, feeling suddenly exposed. She hoped no-one was peering through any windows. It might have turned dark outside, but the orange glow of the torch would surely let anyone who was watching see everything. Not that any one of their friends would do anything so dastardly, but still. The hills have eyes. "Oh, Gilligan, please close the windows," she said, pushing herself up against the pillows and pulling the covers over her legs.

Gilligan staggered to his feet, feeling dazed and disoriented. Without a word he stumbled over to each window and banged it shut. Then he checked the door was secured and locked, and returned to join his new wife on the bed. "Is that better, Mary Ann?" he asked, peering at her face with concern.

Mary Ann nodded. She reached up and stroked the hair away from his eyes. It was getting long in front. She'd have to give it a trim before he turned into one of those shaggy dogs that could never see where they were going. "I'm nervous," she admitted, moving her hand down his face and cupping his cheek, stroking her thumb over his lips. "I mean, I kind of know what we're supposed to do, but..." she looked deep into his eyes. He wasn't always easy to read, but right now he looked just as nervous as she felt, despite the way they'd just been kissing.

"You said we should just start, and see what happens," Gilligan told her. "All I know is, I got these really weird feelings I never had before, right down around here." He put his hand on his belly, leaving the rest unsaid.

Mary Ann looked at his hand. He had nice hands and long fingers. She covered his hand with her own and leaned forward to kiss him. "Oh, Gilligan. I know whatever happens, you'll be gentle with me," she murmured.

"You know I'd never do anything to hurt you, Mary Ann," he assured her.

Mary Ann leaned back until she was lying down and Gilligan was on top of her. She wriggled until she was comfortable. Gilligan carried on kissing her, deciding that this was definitely one new activity he could get to really enjoy. Kissing someone when you loved them was okay. You were allowed to do it. And what's more- when you were allowed to do it, it felt good.

The soft sounds Mary Ann was making told him that she was enjoying it too. That made him feel even better. Maybe this was going to turn out to be the one thing he was good at. Maybe finally he'd have something he could be proud of. He slipped his hand under her negligee. Maybe it was time she took this thing off- it smelled of spilled champagne and he didn't want to smell spilled champagne. He wanted to smell Mary Ann.

Mary Ann helped him pull the damp piece of material up her body and over her head, and Gilligan balled it up and threw it on the floor. Mary Ann was completely naked now. Gilligan blinked rapidly as he stared at the vision of beauty lying next to him on the bed with her big soulful eyes beckoning him. I'll bet any man would love to be where I am now, was the thought that immediately entered his head. Just look at her- she's beautiful!

"Am I all right?" Mary Ann asked, looking down the length of her own body, wishing he would stop staring at her with his hair in his eyes and his mouth hanging open and just say something.

Gilligan had no other memories of naked women to compare her to, but even he could tell that Mary Ann had a stunning figure, and that other men would definitely think she was sexy and desirable. "You're..." he wanted to say 'sexy', but somehow the word sat awkwardly in his mouth. "You're beautiful, Mary Ann. You're beautiful and lovely, and...and..."

"Do you want me, Gilligan?" she asked, hopefully.

Gilligan went a deep red colour all the way up his neck to the tips of his ears. "Um...I guess," he stammered, not altogether sure what she meant.

Mary Ann's eyes flickered below his waistband. "I'd say you do," she smiled bashfully.

Gilligan looked down at himself. "Oh! Um...oh, gosh...yeah...I guess," he repeated, looking dumbstruck.

Mary Ann wrapped both arms around her husband and rubbed her naked breasts against his chest while she kissed him deeply. He mumbled against her lips, then his hands went gently to her breasts and touched them properly for the very first time ever. He sighed with longing as his fingers found her nipples, playing with the tips, flicking them back and forth like they were little switches.

Mary Ann gasped at the sensations he caused by doing that. Just like little switches, he flicked them on and off, sending sharp little tingles coursing through her like electricity. Her whole body shivered and squirmed, desire building up inside her until she though she might literally burst into flames.

She fumbled at Gilligan's jeans button, unhooking it with the fingers of her right hand while her left hand ran through his hair. She fell back onto the bed, taking him with her, almost breaking her fingernails on his zipper in her hurry to get his pants off. "Gilligan," she muttered, "help me out here!"

Gilligan pushed impatiently at his pants, struggling to kick them off down his legs. He had become obsessed with Mary Ann's breasts and was reluctant to do anything that took his attention away from them. But once his pants were off, Mary Ann's loud gasp brought his head round to see what she was staring at.

"Oh, my Gosh!" he exclaimed when he looked down.

"What do you mean, 'oh my Gosh'?" Mary Ann cried. "I should be the one saying oh my Gosh!" Where has he been hiding that for the last six years? she thought, wildly.

Gilligan was embarrassed by the sight of himself standing so firmly and proudly to attention. He had never seen himself quite that...well, quite that...big before. No wonder he'd felt faint! He looked at Mary Ann with anguish written all over his face. "What do I do now?" he asked plaintively.

Mary Ann giggled suddenly, her hand over her mouth. Poor Gilligan was so clearly out of his depth, but his body had no doubts about what it wanted. She felt enormously flattered to have produced that sort of reaction from him. She stretched her arms out and gathered him into them. "You'll know what to do, Gilligan," she smiled. At the same time, she hoped that she'd know what to do, too.

Gilligan lay down on top of Mary Ann with her legs on either side of his waist. He had never seen the intimate areas of a woman before. Not in real life and not even in books. He was almost afraid to look.

Girls and boys sure were different.

He decided to kiss her instead. He wanted her to think there was at least one thing he was getting good at. He was sure he was going to do something to ruin their night before the sun came up, but he wanted it to at least get off to a good start.

While he kissed her, his hand began moving of its own accord. Soon he realised he was aiming for the hidden mysteries between her legs. He didn't know why or what made him do it. He just knew he wanted to touch her there.

Mary Ann felt Gilligan's hand begin its tentative journey southwards. She tensed nervously as his fingers brushed her hip bone and reached the top of her thigh. She held still, not wanting to put him off. If he got the slightest hint that she wasn't enjoying it, he'd stop and then never do it again, or at least not until she'd spent the whole night consoling and reassuring him that he hadn't done anything to hurt her.

Gilligan brushed his fingertips over her inner thigh. He heard her soft sigh and took that as an indication that she liked what he was doing. He couldn't believe how brave he was being- how forward, how...how manly. He, Willie Gilligan, was married to Mary Ann Summers, and now he was going to touch her between the legs.

Mary Ann gasped loudly. She hadn't expected a sensation like that. It was almost as if he'd touched her by accident- just a light graze with his fingertips, but oh, my- the pleasure it gave her! "Oh, Gilligan," she whispered. This was going to be one long night of 'Oh, Gilligan's' if he kept this up.

"Is that okay, Mary Ann?" Gilligan asked hopefully. "Do you like that or should I stop?"

"Oh no, Gilligan, don't stop," Mary Ann's head rocked back and forth against the pillows. "Please don't stop!"

Gilligan carried on, his face a picture of concentration. The feeling of touching her there was very odd. It was nice, very nice, but it was unlike anything he'd ever touched before. She was warm and soft and fuzzy and there were so many different bits of her. His fingertips moved easily through each and every little secret place. It was almost like delving his fingers into a fresh slice of coconut cream pie. With each touch Mary Ann moaned and whimpered and rocked her head against the pillows, smiling and saying yes, Gilligan, yes, Gilligan.

"Mary Ann, are you sure this isn't hurting you?" Gilligan asked, awestruck.

"Oh, no, Gilligan, you're not hurting me at all! This feels so wonderful!" Mary Ann breathed, arching her hips towards his hand. "So wonderful!"

Gilligan was beginning to understand what he was meant to do next. He swallowed nervously. This could all go wrong, so wrong. He hoped it wouldn't. If he kept going slowly, then maybe it would all be okay. He couldn't do anything to hurt her if he didn't rush. Besides, she had told him they had all night. Tonight, tomorrow night and every night for the rest of our lives. There was no-one who was going to to whack him with a hat or yell at him if he messed up. It was just her and him. Mary Ann and Gilligan. He would watch her closely to see what he should do.

Mary Ann was whimpering gently. "Please, Gilligan," she whispered.

Please? Please what? He didn't know what she meant. He felt embarrassed to ask. After a couple of moments, Mary Ann's hand crept onto his thigh and squeezed the top of it, sending a sharp signal to his befuddled brain that said you know what you have to do!

Gilligan removed his hand from between Mary Ann's legs. He felt a panic coming on but squashed it down with the power of his thoughts. Don't chicken out. Don't chicken out! What are you, a man or a mouse? He sure felt like squeaking and running away. "I'm scared," he blurted.

"Me too," Mary Ann confessed, her eyes wide with apprehension. "But I love you, Gilligan. I love you."

Gilligan climbed tentatively between her legs. We're married. This is okay. We're married. This is okay. This is what you do when you're a real grown up and you're married.

He leaned over her face and peered down into her eyes. "What if it hurts, Mary Ann?" he asked, desperate for her reassurance. "Will you tell me?"

"Of course I will, but it won't hurt, not with you, Gilligan."

"Okay," he said, his voice cracking. He looked down at himself, wondering how she knew it wasn't going to hurt. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He pushed, very slowly and very gently.

Mary Ann drew a sharp intake of breath and held it. Gilligan was being gentle. Gilligan could never be anything but gentle. She began to relax. She breathed out. He pushed further. Mary Ann had never felt anything like this before, but she didn't want to scare him off. It wasn't really hurting, and she found it helped if she raised her hips.

Gilligan was going giddy with the sensations that his actions were producing. He couldn't believe how wonderful this felt. Mindful of Mary Ann's possible discomfort, he took his time, listening for the sounds she made, hoping he'd be able to tell immediately, without her having to tell him, if she wanted him to stop.

Before either of them knew it, Gilligan found that he was completely inside of her. Mary Ann breathed hard and heavy, squirming beneath him. "Oh, Gilligan! That didn't hurt at all!" she uttered, her face a picture of delight.

Gilligan was overjoyed. Mary Ann looked ecstatically happy. He wasn't getting it wrong! Things could not be going any better! "What happens now?" he asked, feeling an uncontrollable grin of relief stretch itself across his face.

Mary Ann grinned back, gave a little nervous shrug. "I don't know, Gilligan, I guess you..." she broke off and giggled. "Gilligan, I've never done this before either! I guess we just...oh, you must know!"

"Well, I've heard some Navy stories that..." Gilligan began, then shook his head as Mary Ann shook hers. "No Navy stories."

"Absolutely no Navy stories, Gilligan. Just follow your instincts. I'm sure you must have an idea!"

Carefully, Gilligan began to follow his instincts. Mary Ann murmured her approval, grinning up at him with her eyes all heavy and glazed over. When he repeated the movement, Mary Ann's mouth opened in a wordless moan and Gilligan covered it with his own, kissing her deeply until her moans became rhythmic and guttural, as if they were lodged in her throat somewhere. Could anything in the world feel better than this? I'm making love to Mary Ann, he realised. I'm married to Mary Ann Summers and now I'm making love to her!

Soon Gilligan couldn't stop the strangulated sounds from coming out of his own mouth as he moved steadily on top of her, gliding in and out, listening to her soft cries and loud whimpers, his waist trapped in the vice like grip of her thighs. "Mary Ann," he gasped. "Mary Ann...Mary Ann..."

"Gilligan," she answered back. "Oh, Gilligan, don't stop...don't stop!"

"I can't...can't stop," Gilligan groaned, desperately.

Mary Ann gripped him hard with both arms and both legs. Something wonderful was happening. Something big and wonderful was building up inside her, just waiting to be released. Gilligan looked lost to the world, his dark shaggy hair damp with sweat, his eyes squeezed tight shut, his face a picture of intense concentration.

"Oh Gilligan, yes, yes, yes!" cried Mary Ann loudly.

"Mary Ann!" Gilligan cried, his voice cracked and hoarse.

In the next moment Mary Ann felt the dam break and a wave of ecstasy flood over her. Her back arched clean up off the bed. Her breath whooshed out of her in a series of rasping moans as the climactic sensations threatened to sweep her clean away. Moments later Gilligan let out a strangled cry as the wave caught up with him too. They rode it like two slightly untrained surfers until at last it left them, battered and bruised, weakened and trembling, collapsed in the familiar safety of each other's arms.

Mary Ann stroked Gilligan's damp, sweaty back as he calmed down. He was breathing hard and heavy. The whole bed had been creaking and shaking for the last half hour and now it provided them with a safe haven from the outside world while they recovered.

"Gilligan," she said softly, brushing her lips through his hair. "Oh, Gilligan, that was incredible!"

"Oh, Mary Ann, I never felt anything like it," her husband proclaimed, his face buried in her neck.

"Wasn't it beautiful? Oh, Gilligan- I love you so much!"

Gilligan rolled off Mary Ann and lay flat on his back, grinning up at the ceiling. His face and neck were pink with exertion. His chest rose and fell as he refilled his lungs with air. Mary Ann sneaked a look south- he was no longer standing to attention but he was still pretty impressive. Where had he been hiding himself for the last six years? Oh, but wouldn't Ginger just die if she knew, and as for Mrs. Howell!

"Wow, Mary Ann, I never thought anything could feel that good," Gilligan said happily. "And that was only just the first time!"

Mary Ann laughed at the first mate's unbridled enthusiasm. "Well, it sounds like you've found a hobby that you enjoy!"

"Oh, Mary Ann, am I glad I married you. We're gonna have the best marriage ever!"