Island Girls

"You saw me?" Mary Ann said, that look reflected in her voice.

"Mary Ann, it's no big thing," Ginger said, trying to sound reassuring. "For goodness sake, it's 1964, everyone does it."

"Maybe in Hollywood," Mary Ann replied in an unexpected burst of tears, "but not in Winfield - not thinking the things I think when I do it."

"Mary Ann, honey, you shouldn't think that way," Ginger said, trying to brush away the younger girl's tears. "If you really love Horace, then nothing you imagine doing with him could be wrong."

"Horace?" Mary Ann repeated, her expression again changing, this time to one Ginger couldn't read. "I don't love Horace, I hate the little creep. I wanted to throw up every time he even kissed me."

"I don't understand," Ginger said, confusion in her voice.

"I only ever went out with Horace because Sam said it was a good idea," she went on, her words rushed as if she was suddenly filled with a need to say something she'd held in for far too long. "That if people thought Horace and I were a couple, then they'd never suspect about me and Sam."

'Who the hell was Sam?' Ginger heard herself ask, curious but feeling it wasn't a question she should ask.

It was, however, apparent that Sam must have been someone that would be an inappropriate partner in the community Mary Ann lived in. Although from some of the stories she'd heard about country folk pairing off with cousins and such, she wondered what could have been considered unacceptable.

'Could he be a Negro?' Ginger thought, remembering that was still pretty taboo even in Hollywood. Just look at Sammy Davis and May Britt.

"Mary Ann, trust me," Ginger said, deciding to ignore the question of who Sam was and deal with what she knew for sure. "There's nothing you could ever imagine doing with Sam or anyone else that I probably haven't done at least a half dozen times."

Ginger knew that number could have been multiplied by ten and still fall short of a true figure, but decided to tone it down to what she guessed might be Midwestern standards.

"You don't understand," Mary Ann replied, her voice still shaky, but at least the tears had begun to stop. "We didn't mean for it to happen, we were just practicing for when we started going out with boys. Then, things just got out of hand and we couldn't stop. It was never supposed to go that far."

"Are you saying Sam was a girl?" Ginger asked in a surprised voice.

"Yes, her name was Samantha," Mary Ann replied.

"Mary Ann, it's okay," Ginger repeated. "A lot of girls practice kissing, and sometimes other things," she added, leaving the last part intentionally unclear. "How long did this go on?" she added out of curiosity.

"Three and a half, no, four years," the younger woman answered.

'Four years!' Ginger thought, having expected Mary Ann to say a month or two at most. 'Who'd have imagined Miss Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farms was a muffer?.'

Of course she didn't say that, but it was impossible not to have the surprise she felt not reflect on her face.

"You must think I'm horrible," Mary Ann said, misinterpreting the look on Ginger's face as one of rejection.

"Oh honey, I could never think that," Ginger quickly replied, putting her arm around the shorter girl in assurance.

"You don't think what we did was wrong?" Mary Ann asked, having read in gossip magazines that Hollywood people looked at things differently.

Ginger released her hold and paused a breath before answering. When she did, she chose her words carefully, saying exactly what she thought Mary Ann needed to hear.

"If it's wrong, then I'm guilty too," the actress said.

"What?" Mary Ann asked. Now it was her turn to be surprised.

"When I first started out in Hollywood," Ginger said in a slow, calm tone, "I shared an apartment with another actress, Debbie Dawson. That in itself wasn't uncommon; a lot of girls did it to save money and such. But as time went on, Debbie and I grew closer than sisters and eventually we shared a relationship that I think was quite similar to the one you had with Samantha."

"You mean the two of you..." Mary Ann started to ask, remembering having seen the name Ginger mentioned in fan magazines and also recalling the photo that had gone with it. Debbie had been even more beautiful than Ginger.

"...shared a bed," Ginger said, completing Mary Ann's sentence, "in the same way married couples do."

"Oh my goodness," Mary Ann responded, her voice filled with the relief of hearing that she and Samantha weren't as unique as she thought.

"What happened to the two of you?" the younger woman asked.

"Life took us in different directions," the older woman answered, figuring that was a general enough response.

Ginger's liaisons with Debbie was been primarily physical, the two of them taking care of their mutual needs. It was obvious to her that Mary Ann's relationship with Samantha involved much more. So it was better to keep her responses vague and let the younger woman draw her own conclusions. It would probably also be a good idea not to mention that her former roommate had hardly been the only woman she'd been intimate with over the years. One step at a time.

"This is so much to take in at once," Mary Ann confessed, taking a step back and looking back at the spot where she had been pleasuring herself. "I need some time to..."

"Well then, take your time," Ginger quickly replied. "After all, that's the one thing we seem to have a lot of."

That Mary Ann had to agree with, having come to the same conclusion as Ginger about their chances of rescue.

Years before, when she was still trying to get her first big break, Ginger had taken all sorts of jobs to make ends meet. One involved playing the eye candy in a nightclub mind reading act. Looking at Mary Ann now, the redhead greatly wished the act had been real, so she could tell what the brunette was now thinking. Unfortunately, even the expression on her face was inscrutable.

She would just have to wait to see what today's seeds might bring, because a few moments later, Mary Ann seemed to have already dismissed the incident from memory.

"Was someone looking for me?" Mary Ann asked, her concern shifting as to why Ginger had come out to the falls in the first place.

"No, I was just out for a walk," Ginger replied, hiding her disappointment at the change of subject. "Just trying to sort out a problem."

"Oh," Mary Ann responded, adding almost automatically, "anything that I can help you with?"

"Actually, I think it might just have solved itself," Ginger answered.

"Good," the younger woman smiled, glancing at the shadows made by the overhead sun and making a pretty close guess of the time, a trick Ginger had not been able to master. "I guess I should get back and start putting things together for dinner."

With only torchlight available to the castaways after dark, just about any task beyond their small compound had to be completed before the sun set, including gathering fruits and such for the evening meal. As the primary cook, that was Mary Ann's responsibility. This time, however, Ginger offered to lend her a hand. An offer that was readily accepted.

"But maybe we should stop back at the hut first and let me take care of that tear," Mary Ann said, again examining the rip in Ginger's dress. "We wouldn't want to give the boys any ideas."

'No, we wouldn't,' Ginger thought, feeling a flush of excitement as Mary Ann's finger inadvertently brushed against her bare breast.

-=-=-=-=-

A few days passed and Mary Ann hadn't made any comment about what had happened at the falls, despite plenty of opportunities for her to do so. Even so, Ginger wasn't all that concerned. She just figured the younger brunette needed a little more time to sort things out. But by the fifth day, a disconcerting thought began to work its way into Ginger's thinking.

What if Mary Ann had already considered the idea of the two of them and decided against it? After all, just because she'd had one relationship with a girl back home, that didn't mean she was necessarily open to another. There was a saying back in Tinsel Town, 'Just because a girl's licked a pussy or two, it doesn't always make her a dyke." There were plenty of actresses who'd gone down on women who could make a difference in their careers as readily as they would on a man, but avoided their own sex otherwise.

And even if Mary Ann was a tried and true muff diver, there was no assurance that she would be into Ginger. As hard as it sometimes was for the redheaded bombshell to accept, not everyone wanted to fuck a movie star simply because she was a star.

A few years back, while working on the film "Belly Dancers from Bali Bali", Ginger became infatuated with one of the supporting actresses. Not an unusual occurrence as on set romances, or even just hook-ups, were pretty much a norm in the industry - if for no other reason than people dependent on films and such for their livelihood were less likely to run off and sell their stories to the gossip rags. What was out of the norm, at least for Ginger, was that the girl expressed little interest in her.

If the curvaceous blonde simply wasn't into women, Ginger would've easily understood. But that was far from the fact, as the girl had made it no secret that she preferred the company of her own gender. What had come as a surprise to the rising star was that the younger woman preferred women who could easily be mistaken for men.

If either was the case with Mary Ann, there was little Ginger could do about it. Which put her back at square one.

-=-=-=-=-

At the end of the week, the Skipper announced that he and Gilligan would be going with the Professor on an overnight survey of the far side of the island. So when night fell on the little community, only the girls and the Howells gathered around the communal dinner table. The meal passed quickly, with the Howells excusing themselves early, saying it had been a tiring day and they wanted to turn in.

It hadn't escaped Ginger's notice that Mr. Howell had been sharing intimate touches with his wife under the table all through the meal. She had little doubt how they would be spending the evening and, knowing that, felt a touch of envy.

'Oh well,' she thought to herself as she and Mary Ann began to clear the table, 'at least someone is getting lucky.'

With little else to do, the two women retired to their own hut and made ready for bed themselves. The night was particularly warm, but since the afternoon at the falls, Ginger felt funny sleeping in the nude as had been her norm. Instead she put on an old shirt that Gilligan had contributed to her slowly increasing wardrobe. It was a bit snug on her, but served its intended purpose - if only barely since it came down to less than an inch below her sex. It was unsurprising that both the Skipper and his first mate had several changes of clothes onboard, but it was strange to Ginger that all of the older man's shirts were the same dark blue, while Gilligan's were red. That was until it was explained that they viewed their work clothes as a uniform of sorts, much like they had worn in the Navy - hence the lack of diversity. Mary Ann of course still had the undergarments she had brought with her on vacation, which were unfortunately a few sizes too small to share with her taller roommate.

As the night began to wear on, Ginger was having trouble falling asleep, a circumstance she'd encountered often of late. It had become very hard for her to distract herself from the rise and fall of Mary Ann's breasts as she slumbered so near. She considered taking a short stroll, the night air usually helped her relax, but decided against it when faced with the possibility of overhearing the Howells' nocturnal play.

Eventually sleep did come, if disturbed by unwanted dreams, until, halfway to the dawn, she abruptly found herself awake once more. It took a few moments for her to realize that a noise had pulled her from slumber and an equal span to recognize what it was.

Lifting herself up from her cot and swinging her legs over the side, Ginger turned in the direction of Mary Ann's bed. In the quiet of the night, there was no mistaking that that was the source of the noise that had awakened her. There was also just enough moonlight from the window between the beds to see what was causing the noise.

"Fuck me!" Ginger said under her breath. "She's playing with herself in her sleep."

Sure enough, Mary Ann was, with eyes still tightly closed, slowly pleasuring herself. The hem of her nightgown was up around her waist and her left hand lay across the lightly haired mound between her legs. Rising to her feet and taking a slow, silent step closer, Ginger could see that Mary Ann had two fingers inside herself.

As much as she wanted to turn away, Ginger found it impossible to do so - the sight was just too enticing. Her own pussy ached to be touched she felt her right hand moving almost involuntarily toward it. Then, with it only inches away, she pulled it back. It just didn't feel right.

Perhaps that walk was called for after all, Ginger considered, if only to give Mary Ann privacy. The Howells had undoubtedly worn themselves out by now and would be fast asleep. The redhead had barely made a quarter turn when the sleeping girl moaned something that knocked her literally off her feet.

Whirling around at the sound of her name, Ginger caught one foot in front of the other and tripped over them, landing on the dirt floor with a loud thud.

"Ginger!" the actress heard the farm girl call out a second time, but now with a conscious voice. "Are you alright?"

By the time Ginger replied that she was, Mary Ann was out of her bed and by her side, asking what happened?

"I tripped," came the simple reply.

"You tripped," Mary Ann repeated. "Where were you going?"

If she'd had another moment to think, Ginger would've simply thought to say she was headed to the outhouse, indoor plumbing not being one of the Professor's wonders. Instead, she found herself telling the truth.

"Oh my," Mary Ann said as, lifting her hand to look, she saw the dampness on it. "I thought it was only a dream," she added.

Thinking what to say next, Ginger noted that the younger woman wasn't exhibiting any of the embarrassment that she'd done a week ago under similar circumstances. Emboldened by the observation, she decided to go for broke.

"You also called out my name," she said. "Was that part of your dream too?"

At that, the embarrassment returned. Mary Ann stood up and, stepping back to the bed, sat down on the edge of it. Ginger paused a breath, then sat down next to her.

"You were dreaming of me, weren't you?" Ginger asked.

"Yes," Mary Ann replied in a low tone.

"And from what you were doing," Ginger continued, "I don't think I have to ask what the dream was about."

"Oh, I'm so embarrassed," Mary Ann replied.

"Would you feel less embarrassed if I told you I've had similar dreams?" Ginger offered.

"You've had dreams about being with me?" Mary Ann asked, the disbelief in her tone clear.

"Why do you find that so hard to believe?" Ginger responded, having picked up on the doubt in her query.

"I guess I shouldn't," Mary Ann answered a long breath later. "After all, it's not like you have a lot of options, unless of course Mrs. Howell is the sort that gets you going."

While the millionaire's wife would hardly have been the oldest woman she'd had sex with, that distinction belonging to a casting director who'd given Ginger one of her early breaks, mature women really weren't her thing. She much preferred lovers nearer her own age.

"No, she isn't," the redhead said.

"Then I guess I win by default," Mary Ann noted.

This was not going as well as she had hoped, Ginger thought.

"Mary Ann, I ..." she started to say.

"Let me ask you a question," the brunette interrupted, "and please answer honestly."

"Okay."

"That day in Honolulu, when all this started, when the question might have still been a choice and not just a matter of availability, what was your first impression of me?" Mary Ann asked. "If the Minnow had simply made it back to port that afternoon, could you have imagined me in your bed?"

"No," Ginger admitted without hesitation.

"I didn't think so," Mary Ann said.

Ginger could, she knew, have pointed out that after the romp she'd had with that Cuban band leader the night before, she probably would have turned down even Liz Taylor if the opportunity presented itself. But that wouldn't have helped the matter, she decided.

"I'm sorry," Ginger said instead.

To her surprise, Mary Ann's face filled with a smile, not the reaction Ginger expected.

"You're not upset?" Ginger asked.

"No, because you answered truthfully," Mary Ann said. "I can't respect someone who can't be honest."

Now it was Ginger that smiled, pleased that she had chosen wisely.

"I do want to say, though," she offered, "that if we had met under different circumstances, and I got to know you like I have these past weeks, then I wouldn't feel the same way."

Much to Ginger's own surprise, she realized that she actually meant that.

"You don't have to say that," Mary Ann said. "Under the circumstances, I really don't have a problem with availability."

"No, but I wanted to because it's true," Ginger replied, reaching out with her hand and brushing back the locks of hair that had fallen over Mary Ann's eyes.

Leaning forward, she kissed the younger woman softly, just enough to give her a taste of what could be. It took a breath, but she felt the brunette kiss her back.

"That was nice," Mary Ann said as their lips parted.

"Yes, it was," Ginger agreed.

"So, what do we do now?" Mary Ann asked after a long moment's pause.

"Well, I guess we could get off the floor," Ginger suggested with a soft laugh, glancing back toward the bamboo and thatched grass constructs that they slept on.

"You really think one of those cots is going to hold the both of us?" Mary Ann asked, alluding to both their narrow width and fragile design.

"Like I said," Ginger said, envying as she did the Howells' heavier constructed double bed, "I think the floor is nice, even if it is covered with dirt."

"That's easy enough to fix," Mary Ann said as, rising to her feet, she pulled the blankets, which had been rescued from the Minnow's stores, from their cots and draped them across the floor. "Just like a picnic," she added with a broad grin.

"I love a practical woman," Ginger said as she took Mary Ann's hand in hers and together the two dropped down to the now covered ground.

Sitting barely inches apart, their lips met again in a kiss, this time one that lasted much longer and drew them even closer together.

-=-=-=-=-

They shared kiss after kiss, their hands slowly running across each other's bodies, fingers stroking soft, excited skin. Ginger took hold of the short, simple blue nightgown that Mary Ann wore and began to pull it upward, exposing the even more enticing flesh beneath it. Practicality reserved panties for daytime use, so once the simple garment was lifted over the brunette's head, she was totally nude.

It was the first time Ginger had seen her so, and it was understandable when she paused for a long moment to fully take in the previously unseen beauty to be found there. Mary Ann's breasts were smaller than Ginger's but round and firm, with dark, perky nipples that stood out like pencil erasers. Between her legs was a lightly haired bush, just large enough to cover her mound. The rest of her body was that of a well developed young woman, one that took care to watch what she ate and spent time with physical activities.

The makeshift nightshirt covering Ginger took a little more doing to get off, but Mary Ann was nothing if not determined. Once it was gone, her eyes quickly focused on the actress's large breasts, and the bright pink nipples of each. Her gaze ran down the hourglass figure, again taking note of what she already knew - that Ginger was a natural redhead.