Adult-FanFiction.org : Cartoons

Strictly Business	By : Nastyzak Category: +G through L > Gravity Falls Views: 4073 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Fandom is Gravity Falls. I don't own it or the characters and don't get any money for my writing.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Strictly Business

1
This time Dipper tried a different spell of summoning, one that his gruncle Ford had once used to persuade a family of nine poltergeists to move out of a fireman’s pants. It was gentler and kinder, not spoken in command or shouted, but pronounced in “a friendly, encouraging voice. Note: Use iron self-control to prevent yourself from shrieking in terror, since that only encourages them.”
With Pacifica touching his shoulder, and both of them standing within the inner circle, Dipper invited and encouraged the ghost to appear in peace and to let them help her. He paused before the last line because he had to try something risky.
He had to name the ghost.
And if the ghost wasn’t Lina, then—
Gruncle Stanford had written it out in a dire warning: “Before you attempt to call a departed spirit by name, be very certain you use the correct names. For minor haunts like poltergeists, a descriptor such as ‘the breaker’ or ‘the tosser’ will suffice, but for departed human spirits, a personal name must be given and must be correct.”
Stanford’s journal went into more detail a few paragraphs later: “Ancient sources warn that being certain before pronouncing a ghost’s name is the only protection against an assault by overwhelming evil forces. I reference the Liber magnus de delitiis et secretis mortiferis, by Irrumatus Superbus, a Roman sorcerer who accompanied Flavius Silicho to the British Isles. His magical skills are questionable. In 398 AD as he anticipated an attack by the Picts, he donned his Roman armor and it ate him. Again, see the L'histoire secrète des esprits written in blood on paper made from human skin by Benín le Chiot-Malade, for whose body the gendarmes searched all over Paris following his last disastrous séance in 1843 (in fact, they found his body all over Paris). Another discussion of using names to expel ghosts is in Dr. Crackpot’s Book of the Damned, written in the 1920s by Dr. Caracticus Crackpot, a volume that had driven some readers to madness. ‘I paid two dollars for this?’ they’d rage. ‘That makes me mad!’”
But Pacifica had told Dipper the name Lina had come to her, and Dipper trusted Pacifica. In a way. Maybe.
When he finished reciting the incantation, the room grew colder. Dipper expected the screams and moans they had heard before, but instead—
“Is she crying?” Pacifica whispered.
Dipper couldn’t be sure. The sobs stopped just short of his being able to hear them clearly—like a fourteen-year-old heartbroken girl (and the average fourteen-year-old girl could suffer heartbreak like nobody else) locked away in her room, a pillow pressed to her face, and crying at a volume calculated to worry her parents downstairs. One second he was sure he heard it, the next he wondered if his ears were playing tricks on his brain.
“Appear to us,” Dipper said kindly.
“We want to help you,” Pacifica added. “I told you at the pond. We’ll do anything we can.”
“Something’s appearing,” Dipper said.
It shimmered into existence only a few feet from them. And it was a very pretty nude girl, all silver and translucent, with a beautiful figure, breasts high and full, narrow waist, nicely widened hips, absolutely naked. Her face might have been beautiful in life, but now it wore an expression of anguish.
“She’s stunning,” Pacifica said without a hint of fear or jealousy.
This manifestation was no burred orb, no hovering will-o-the-wisp, but a fragile yet clear image so complete that Dipper could see the girl’s old-fashioned braids, even the individual hairs, and her belly button, and the curls of her pubic patch, the purity of line of her legs, her delicate toes—
They did not touch the floor. She floated four inches above it. She stretched out her ghostly arms and pleaded, “Come to me.”
“Stay inside the circle,” Dipper whispered.
Then the apparition did weep, anguish wrenching her features. “Quickly, please,” she begged.
Pacifica pushed past him. “I’m here.”
“Pacifica, no!” Dipper yelled, reaching to grab her wrist and missing.
He smelled brimstone, he felt a wave of fury rushing from the very walls and ceiling and converging on Pacifica and him.
He saw the ghost girl meet Pacifica and throw her arms around the living girl—
The two of them flashed as if they had mutually annihilated each other—
A horrible black tendril reared from the floor and thrashed as if trying to ensnare them—
Pacifica sagged toward the floor.
Standing on the very edge of the magic circle, Dipper hooked an arm her wrist and dragged her toward him. He scooped her up, thinking Must be the adrenaline. I’m not this strong!
She lolled in his arms, unconscious. He took in one deep breath and leaped from the circle into the hallway. He heard a roar behind him that could have come from no living creature’s throat.
The open door—slammed shut. The boom echoed in the old house as if someone had fired a double-barreled shotgun. Dipper staggered into the guest bedroom and lay Pacifica down on the bed. How were you supposed to revive someone? Ammonium carbonate, the stuff they used to call smelling salts? He didn’t remember if he had that in his kit. He had left the briefcase on the desk. He reached for it—
The lights went out.
“Oh, shit!” Dipper said. Wait, in the leg pocket of his overalls he had his compact flashlight. He took it out—but he needed more light. He remembered that Pacifica had stored lanterns in the closets, looked in this one, and there it was in the corner of a shelf, made in imitation of an old railroad lantern, but battery powered with an array of bright LEDs. He switched it on. The darkness fell back. He had the impression it retreated into the hall like an octopus waving its angry tentacles.
He shut the door and pressed the lock.
And that was when he heard it.

2
“Ohhh, I want you,” Pacifica cooed.
The first thing Dipper felt was relief. “You’re awake again. Listen, I think—wait, what?”
Pacifica had risen from the bed and stood beside it, writhing in the pale glow of the lantern he had set on the floor, sweeping her hands over her curvaceous body. “Please, I want you. My Eddie.”
This was no ghost. This was Pacifica Northwest, beautiful, sensuous, and so eager that he caught the scent of her. “Pacifica,” he croaked. “We have to help Lina—”
“Please,” she whispered, her eyes wide and pleading, her lips wet and gleaming. “Please take me right here, right now.”
Something was off about her voice. It was Pacifica’s voice, but somehow it wasn’t quite her voice. “Who, who am I talking to?” Dipper asked.
“We can make love,” Pacifica said.
“I, I, wh-what’s your name?” Dipper stammered.
“I know your name,” she said, smiling, such white teeth. “Eddie. You’re my dearest Eddie. You gave me daisies.”
Dipper studied her eyes. They seemed to glow, the pupils hardly showing. The way Mabel had looked in the convenience store.
“Have you possessed Pacifica?” Dipper asked.
If Pacifica even heard him, she did not react. She took one swaying step toward him, and then “Look at me,” she murmured, smiling, her chin down, giving him an upward stare, bedroom eyes, but weird eyes. “You want me. You want these.” She pulled her arms from the short sleeves of her top and rolled it down. She wore no bra and revealed her tempting round young breasts. She stroked them, smiling, offering them to Dipper, cupping her palms under them, the nipples beginning to erect between her teasing fingers, and she licked her lips as if in anticipation. She threw her head back, smiled, and moaned.
This time it was not a frightening sound, but incredibly sexy. Dipper’s body reacted faster than his mind. His cock stiffened and he felt hot all over. In that instant, the ceiling lights flickered, came on, went out, and then illuminated the room with their normal steady glow. Something outside pounded on the bedroom door. The doorjamb creaked.
Pacifica did not seem to hear it. “Look at me,” she repeated, pulling up her skirt and twitching her panties to one side to reveal the plump, glistening promise of her pussy. “Mm, I’m so wet. I want you so much. Don’t you like me? Don’t you like to see me like this, begging you?”
Dipper thought, Mabel and I were wrong. She’s a real blonde
Now he definitely could smell her musk, and his dick throbbed. But despite the room lights and the lantern, the darkness was trying to break through, just outside the door, and if it did—
“I’ll remove these garments for you. See?” She peeled off the stretchy top and dropped it, paused to pinch and pull her ripe nipples, now deep pink, taut with desire, and then she unfastened the skirt and let fall. Looking directly at him, she pushed her panties down to her ankles and daintily stepped out of them. She hugged herself, fully displaying her whole body to him while he stood there, eyes wide. “Ohh, take me, please. I ache for you.”
Never have sex with a ghost.
“She’s inside Pacifica,” Dipper whispered to his absent gruncle Stanford. “She’s not just a ghost. She has a body. Borrowed a body.”
Pacifica was breathing hard now, and her skin gleamed as if she wore a thin coating of tanning oil. “Look at me,” she purred, turning her back to him. “Look at what I offer you.” Dipper’s throat felt dry. With the grace of a ballerina, she bent over and grasped her own ankles, her shapely ass like a Valentine, displaying to him her rosy asshole and her wet pink slit. She let go of one ankle, opened her thighs, and began to masturbate, her hips gyrating, her middle finger vanishing into that delectable pussy.
Use your tongue, Dipper’s uncle had advised him. But—never have sex with a ghost.
Now she turned back toward him, still fingering her pussy, her eyes half-closed in desire. “Eddie, please. Please make love to me. Any way you want. Mouth, pussy, asshole, anything. Fingers. Feet. All of them. Let’s fuck. Please. I have to have you, Eddie.”
Eddie. The ghost was inside Pacifica and was in control. And Dipper wanted her. But—
It was one of Dipper’s better points or one of his worse ones. He told her the truth: “Pacifica, I’m not Eddie. I’m Dipper. Uh, Lina, my name is Dipper.”
“Dipper,” she said, and now the voice was all Pacifica. Then the odd voice again: “Dipper, fuck me. Now.”
He undid that absurdly long zipper, pulled off his boots, and stripped. “I want you, too,” he said.
She all but leaped into his arms, they embraced, and they kissed, standing by the bed. He felt her lift her right leg. She bent her knee and pressed her heel against his left buttock, never breaking the kiss. Her mouth tasted delicious. She had trapped his cock between them and she moved from side to side, rolling it against her soft hot tummy. He could feel her pubic hair against his balls. He could feel her heart beating wild beneath those soft, eager tits.
He gently moved her backward. She lay down on the bed, crosswise. “Eddie,” she was whispering. “My Eddie.”
What the hell. He thought, This might kill me. But it’s a great way to go.
He spread her legs and went down on her. His tongue touched nothing cold or ghostly, but warm, fluttering flesh. Now he noticed that Pacifica had a kind of Brazilian cut down here, golden pubic hairs trimmed and shaped. She moved her hips, trying to press her pussy against his mouth.
He made that unnecessary.
Her juices were flowing. Dipper had tasted pussies before, but Pacifica’s was different, luscious, and he licked and sucked eagerly. Now she was gasping, her fingers clenched in his hair. He pressed down hard, the space between his nose and his upper lip pushing firmly against her pubis. She said, “Yes! Yes! Oh!”
As he lavished attention on her clit, Dipper could tell that she had come. Now, urgently, with hands and even her legs she was trying to pull him up on the bed, up on top of her. He stood, swung her legs around, and then lay down between them. “Lina,” he managed to say. “Lina, are you still a virgin?”
“I don’t want to be!” she groaned. “Take me, Eddie, Dipper, I give myself to you. Fuck me, please! Fuck me now!”
Dipper poised the tip of his dick against her wet, hot slit. “Now?” he asked.
He was staring into those weird eyes. For a moment they were clear and blue, Pacifica’s eyes, not a ghost’s, not a possessed person’s, but Pacifica’s. And she hugged him and wrapped her legs around his upper thighs and said, “Now, Dipper. Put it in me.”
Oh, she was tight, but her pussy welcomed his intruding shaft, clamped firmly to it, and before Dipper was really positioned, she began to pump her hips. Now her mouth was next to his ear, and she whispered, “Fuck me, Eddie. Hard and deep. Eddie, I love you!”
He felt strange, both into and out of it. He wondered Is Eddie in here with me? In my head?
But the sensations were all his, and he began to plow. Beneath him she writhed and moaned, squeezing him with her legs locked around him, urging him silently to go faster, to plunge his cock so deep inside her that the head bumped against her cervix. “Yes,” she panted, her breath hot on his cheek. “Oh, yes, so good!”
Never fuck a ghost.
But she wasn’t a ghost, or if she was, she possessed a borrowed human body, Pacifica’s lush and strong and wonderfully flexible body. Dipper’s head spun. I’m not Eddie, I’m me. Eddie’s not even here, but her belief is so strong—
Now his strokes were long and hard, her slippery pussy rippling as his shaft glided in and back, deep and shallow. With an effort he raised his head and saw her face clenched on pleasure. “Pacifica,” he gasped. “Kiss me!”
And she pressed her mouth against his so hard that it almost hurt. Her tongue jousted with his, slipping over and under, and she sucked on his tongue. He heard hear humming, felt the vibration in her throat. Her nipples were hard against his chest, and she wriggled, pushing them more firmly against him. She hugged him tight with arms and legs, she pumped her hips, and then he felt his balls tighten.
He pushed in as far and as hard as he could. And then he spurted his load, jetting it strong and full.
“Ahh!” she cried, bucking beneath him. “So hot inside me—so—oh God, yes! Yes!”
Even after his hard-on started to ebb, she wouldn’t let him withdraw. “Do me,” she said. “Do me every way. I want it so. Oh, Eddie, you’re close again, so close to me.” And then she blinked and said, “Dipper—do it. I want it, too.”
Somehow the room, the whole house, vibrated with pent-up energies. Dipper thought, It’s him, it’s whoever did this to her, the man who locked her up in that room, maybe even murdered her. He’s fighting to hold onto her. He's sending the dark forces.
He rolled onto his back and she rolled with him. “Suck me,” he said. “Get me hard again.”
“Yes, Eddie.” She moved down and, kneeling, lowered her head “Yes, Dipper.” Her breath on his flaccid dick. Her eager tongue lapped, she gulped and swallowed his juices combined with her own, and she was so eager, her mouth so hot.
“Finger your pussy,” he told her. “Get ready again.”
“Mm,” she hummed. When he was firm and erect again, he gently persuaded her to stop sucking—he was going to cum again soon, he knew. “Bend over the bed,” he said. “Back toward me. Spread your legs for me.”
She did, urgently moaning. He put a finger on her asshole. “Here?” he asked.
“Mm-hmm,” she said.
“You need to be looser,” he told her.
She reached back and put a hand on each hip and pulled, opening herself up. His cock was lubed with his sperm and her saliva, and he carefully pressed the tip against the tighter opening. Slowly he pressed it inside, and he felt her beneath him, again fingering her pussy as he fucked her ass. “How does this feel?” he asked her.
“It feels wonderful, Eddie. Fuck me. Fuck my ass. Make me yours.” A moment later, she gasped, “Oh, Dipper!”
Truth to tell, this was his first experience taking a girl anally. He moved slower this time, carefully, because this kind of fucking was more deliberate and he didn't want to hurt her. While he took her ass, she got her own fingers on her clit and in her pussy and matched her movements with his thrusts.
This time she built up to her own peak faster than he did his. She cried out without words, a triumphant “Hahh!” of pure pleasure as she came again. He felt wetness from her pussy. That got him off, and he spurted into her ass.
He carried her to the bathroom, ran the shower, and they got in together. “It’s been so long,” she said, and he guessed that was Lina speaking. “So long since I have been clean!”
He washed her lovingly, with handfuls of suds over tits and ass, thighs and pussy. Giggling, she soaped his penis and pretended to scrub it, really jerking him off. But after coming twice, Dipper wasn’t quite ready. They dried and fell back into bed together. “What do you want to do now, Pacifica?” Dipper asked.
She said in a trance-like tone, “She’s very close. And there’s a small light with us. See sees it. Release her. Ask her what to do—”
“Lina,” Dipper said, “I want to free you. How can I please you?”
“I want your cock in my pussy again,” she murmured. “And a—a toy? In my ass.”
“I don’t know—”
“Come with me, said the mixed-up girl. Naked, Dipper and Pacifica, or was she Lina, went into the hallway.
Oh, God. Darkness like a fog rolled in wisps around the edges of the closed door to the haunted room. A snaky tendril reached for them, but dissolved to sooty strands before it could touch them. Pacifica took the lead. They ran all the way to her bedroom. She threw open the door and fell on her knees in front of the bureau. “Vibes,” she gasped, yanking open the bottom drawer. “Find the thin pink curved one, Dipper. Hurry, it’s coming!” and in a slightly different voice, she added, “My grandfather’s hatred! Jeremiah’s in hell, but his evil taints this—”
Dipper thought I should make notes, but he knelt beside Pacifica, too busy looking through her extensive collection. Strings of beads, hmm. Tiny things that looked like clothespins. A blindfold. A monster dildo with a little rabbit sitting low on the shaft, its ears curving forwards, what the hell—oh. The big shaft went inside, the ears tickled the clit. Huh. And then he found what had to be what she was searching for, a long but slender medium-hard dildo that curved for the last three inches, its round tip bristling with nubs.
“How does it work—”
“Oh, give it to me—on the counter in the bathroom—lube—get the clear bottle—quick!”
She had a clutter of cosmetics on the sink counter and in front of a mirror. Her dressing room was actually a hallway into her bathroom, where he glimpsed a big jetted tub, a separate shower, the toilet, and something he guessed was a bidet. No time to wonder, he scrabbled among all the vials and containers. Clear bottle, clear bottle, there it was, in a curved wasp-waisted squirt bottle with pink cursive letters on it, Sensuelle Intimate.
Gratuitous French again, if it even was French. He brought it to Pacifica, sprawled on the bed. “This it?”
She nodded. “Put it on the vibe. Rub some on my asshole. Put some on your dick!”
The stuff had a gel-like texture and was super slippery. Though cool to the touch, in contact with his skin it had a kind of light peppery warmth, too. He lubed up the dildo and then dribbled some on Pacifica’s asshole—she lay back on the bed with her butt raised—and Lina said, “Oh, this is so wicked, but it feels so good. The toy! In me, and then fuck me again, Eddie!” Then Pacifica, he guessed, said, “Give it to me.”
He handed her the vibrator and generously lubed his dick, now hard and throbbing again. He’d been right—the gel had something in it that made his dick feel warm. Pacifica inserted the toy and switched it on—he could hear it buzzing, and then when he penetrated her, he could feel the vibration.
She held he vibe in place with her left hand as she accepted his cock inside her again. “Can—can you feel it?” she gasped, beginning to move the toy. “Can you feel the vibe in my ass?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“Oh, God, this is making me crazy. Yes, Dipper! Fuck me fast. Hard. Harder!”
He moved like a pile driver now, feeling her clench, watching her head thrash as her eyes rolled up in ecstasy, feeling the vibrator buzzing in her ass, feeling her move it so that even through her pussy wall it stimulated his dick.
At the same time he sensed energy pulsating in the air, like the moment before a bad thunderstorm rips the gray sky open. It was like waiting for the thunderbolt.
Now Pacifica was pumping the vibrator in and out of her asshole. She whimpered and clenched her teeth. “Close! I’m so—uhh—so—oh God! So close!”
Something whirled around Dipper’s head. He couldn’t quite focus on it. It was a golden, fuzzy ball of light, or maybe he was on the verge of passing out.
“Let’s cum together,” he gasped.
“Yes! Cum with me! Don’t slow down!” Pacifica pleaded. “Yeah, go, fill me up!”
He was past the point of needing her urging. “Oh, fuck!” he shouted as he felt his third load releasing inside her.
“Eddie!” screamed Pacifica. “There you are! Oh, God, I’m coming!”
Dipper came and she came, and then—
All the lights went out again.
- 10
- 11
- 12
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Strictly Business