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Smells Like Teen Spurts	By : Nastyzak Category: +G through L > Gravity Falls Views: 15483 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls or the characters, and I don't make any money from writing.

Chapter List
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3. Making a Move
When Dipper finally phoned Stanford Pines and told him a somewhat limited version of events, his great uncle said, “Biological effects, you say? Is there a copy of Journal Seven about?”
“I haven’t even seen that one,” Dipper reminded him. “You wrote that while I was away in college.”
“Pity. It seems to me I did a little investigation a couple of years back, but—wait, how did you even open the storage cabinet? It’s kept locked, and I have the only key on my keychain.”
“Not the only one,” Dipper said. He explained where he’d found the spare key—atop the cabinet and covered with dust.
“Of course,” Stanford said. He chuckled. “That slipped my mind, but I always have a backup plan! Well, don’t mess with anything else in there. You say the plant is currently stable?”
“I’ve covered it with a bell jar, and I’m not planning on watering it.”
His great uncle sounded reassuring: “Good, good. Keep it that way. It will go dormant as soon as there’s no more water available for its roots. You may need to snip off a little piece of it later. My recall of that discovery is hazy, I must admit. I’ll find the relevant pages in Journal Seven, photograph them with my camera, and text the images to you. Meanwhile, isolate the Enhancing Fern and be sure to keep the plant away from everyone else. Wait, your sister’s not with you, is she?”
“No, Mabel’s still in college,” he reminded Ford. “I’m . . . I’m alone in the Shack.”
“Excellent, that’s best. You may possibly have certain, um, urges that you’ll have to resolve on your own, I’m afraid. Be patient and hang on. It’ll take me an hour or so to find the relevant pages in the journal and photograph and text them to you. Keep the plant covered with the glass jar. Even better, replace it in the cabinet and lock it there. Depriving it of light will also hasten dormancy.”
“Will do,” Dipper said.
As soon as he hung up, Wendy asked, “Can we do anything about it?”
“Not yet,” he told her.
She grinned. “Good! You ought to be popping another boner in thirty or forty minutes.”
“I didn’t know you were timing them!”
“Yep. The period of eruption’s just about four hours. Hey, Dip, what would you say to packing up the groceries and all and us going over to my place for the night? It’s warmer there, and I’ve got a lot more room and comforts than the attic here.”
“Sounds great. Let me take care of something first,” he said. He hesitated. “Uh, you do have Wi-Fi and a printer, right?”
“I’m not a barbarian,” she told him. “Of course I do. McGucket’s given the whole valley free Wi-Fi. We get a hundred and forty MBPS download speed. And I got me a Pewit-Hacker multifunction printer, fax machine, and copier all rolled into one.”
“Great, that’s a better system than here,” Dipper admitted. “Uh, though come to think of it, that’s probably because my laptop’s so old. Why did you get such a high-end setup?”
“'Cause I’m a businessperson, and my dad paid for it anyway,” Wendy said. “Speaking of which, I ought to call the office and check with Rudy. I’ll tell him I still got the bug. You go do what you need to do.”
Dipper carefully carried the covered plant down the secret stairs to the lab and managed to fit it onto the second shelf from the bottom—with the bigger pot and the bell jar, it needed the space—and then he put the cabinet key on his keychain and went back upstairs. He was already beginning to feel the first stirrings of his next erection.
Wendy had dressed. She stuck her phone into her pocket. “Everything’s cool in the office. This is a slack time, anyways, just a couple jobs underway. I told Rudy I’d consult a doctor on Monday and then call again to let him know how long I’ll be contagious. I’ll grab those groceries and run them out to my Jeep. You hurry upstairs and pack some clothes, Dip. Our time is running short!”
Dipper grabbed and stuffed some clothes in his worn old Piedmont duffel bag. She handed him his warm coat at the door. “Be sure and lock up the place,” she said.
He did. “Snowing a little,” he observed as they stepped off the porch.
“Just flurries. Not your car! My Jeep, Dip. Throw the bag in the back seat.” As he did, she put three bags of groceries into the cargo space behind the rear seats. She had already packed the milk and other dairy into a box there.
As she backed out of the parking slot and turned toward the road, she said, “I don’t live that far from here, you know. If you went down the museum steps and turned right and walked straight into the woods, you’d go downhill until you came to the creek. There’s a big old lodge-pole pine that fell years ago and made a natural bridge across it. Cross that, hike straight ahead up the next long hill, and in about three-quarters of an hour you’d come out in my back yard over on Red Beaver Road.”
“That’s appropriate!” Dipper said.
She glanced at him, raising her eyebrows. “Yeah, laugh it up, Big Dipper. By car, though, we should get there just in time for our next date.” She wriggled her shoulders a little.
“What’s wrong?” Dipper asked.
“Huh? Oh, nothing, but my boobs are sort of tender for some reason. Gonna lose this bra once we’re inside the door. Hang on, I’m gonna speed a little bit.”
They turned off Gopher Road, paralleled the White River for a mile or so, and then Wendy made the left onto Red Beaver Road.
“Not much up in here,” Wendy said. “My dad owned five acres, and he built the house on that. You met my stepmom, right?”
“The big strong lady?” Dipper asked. “Once, back in the fall. Sorry, I forgot her name.”
“Maggie,” Wendy said. “Maggie McBee, Strongest Woman in the World. She traveled with a circus as a strong lady for fifteen years. My dad met her when they were performing over in Portland, they liked each other right off, and before you knew it, wedding bells. Eh, she and I get along okay, but she’s nearly the size of my dad, and they need lots of room. Hang on, dude, we’re like a minute and a half away.”
“I didn’t say anything—”
“I know, but I can smell you getting ready!” Wendy said. “We get there, jump out, just leave your suitcase or whatever, ‘case we’re not gonna have time for you to unpack! It’s twenty-eight degrees, groceries will be okay for a while.”
They pulled up in the driveway of a neat log house, at least the size of the Corduroy home, which lay in the opposite direction from the Shack. Wendy parked, jumped out, leaped up over the three steps onto the porch, and unlocked the front door. “C’mon, Dip!”
Dipper had to move more slowly because his growing erection was uncomfortable, trapped in his jeans leg. Note to self: Don’t buy tight jeans next time!
She hustled him into the house, closed and locked the front door, and then said, “Bedroom’s through there and on the right. Strip on the way!”
She was shedding clothes as she followed him. He had to wriggle a little to ease his boner out, but he shoved down his jeans and stepped on the toes of his socks to pull them off. Wendy pushed him onto the bed. “There’s my big guy!” she said. “Mm!”
She gave him a deep kiss while stroking his shaft. “This time, can we—” he began.
She was licking his cheek, but paused to ask, “Can we fuck? We can try, but I’m so wanting to swallow more of your cum. Okay, here, I think I—if we can do it. Can you stand up if I lay back on the bed like this?”
“Yeah,” he said. She lay back with her butt on the edge of the bed and spread her legs, opening for him.
“Go slow at first,” Wendy said. “That’s a monster, and I’m wet as I can get, but even so—” she broke off and squirmed as he started to use his cock tip to massage her slippery slit. “Oh, yeah, rub it around and spread your precum, it’s the best lube ever. Now put it in me. Slow! Go slow! Unnnh!”
Dipper forced himself not to rush. He felt the bulb of his cock head slowly part her pussy lips and then it slipped inside her warm opening. He waited for a second while she quivered, breathing hard. “Can I move?” he asked.
“Let—let me get used to it first,” she gasped. “You hold still a second. Let me start.”
She began, very slowly, to fuck him, and he felt his shaft press deeper inside her with each stroke. She was biting her lower lip. And then she panted, “Okay, fuck me now, but remember, slow at first. I really ooh! Ahh! Oh, my God! Yeah!”
She squirted. Surprised, he asked, “Did you just cum?”
“Big time, man! Oh, God! Pull out, Dip, I want you to finish in my mouth!”
Well, he couldn’t object to that. As soon as his dick popped out of her, Wendy spun around, now lying crossways on the bed with her head hanging over the edge. “I think I can take it all in this way,” she said. “Shit, I’m so horny! I’m gonna finger myself while I start this, ‘cause I already know I can cum again! Give me that tasty dick, Dipper!”
She opened her mouth and Dipper pressed down on the shaft to bring the glistening purple helmet down to her lips. She licked for a moment, then said, “Slow again. Let me swallow it!”
Dipper had never seen a girl giving an upside-down blowjob. It fascinated him. He could actually see the bulge start in Wendy’s throat when she had gulped in three-quarters of his cock. And she reached back to put both her hands on his hips and urge him forward.
Her throat opened for him, and with her hands guiding him, he started to fuck, short strokes. She couldn’t speak, of course, but she writhed and suddenly took her right hand off his butt and reached down to her pussy again. He saw the burst of spay when she came squirting again, and a moment later his dick started to fire, too. She let him pull back, but he shot twice right into her throat, and then only the tip was in her mouth, filling it with cum, and she made greedy, gulping sounds. This time, because the first, strongest shots went into her throat, there was much less spillage, and even as Dipper’s dick began to go soft, she kept sucking, eager for every drop.
Finally, they broke apart, a silver strand of cum oozing from Dipper’s dick, drooping over her upper lip, nose, and forehead, and finally falling into her hair.
She moved around until she lay the right way up in bed on top of the covers, her head on a pillow, and he lay beside her. Now he could notice stuff—queen-sized bed, really nice, plush green coverlet, flat-screen TV on the wall past the foot, music and radio set-up on the entertainment center under it. Big walk-in closet off to the right, and hanging on one wall an assortment of axes. And, damn, up above the bed hung the fallout-shelter sign she had stolen that time in the Bunker.
When their heartbeats had returned to something close to normal, Wendy said, “It just keeps getting better and better. Am I bein’ too selfish, man? Are you enjoying this?”
“My God, Wendy, I can’t even—oh, fuck, yes, you know I am!”
“Only bad thing is now we gotta wait until like seven o’clock tonight to do it again!”
“Uh—I better go bring in the groceries.”
“Right,” she said. “I almost forgot. My car keys are in my coat pocket, Dip. Front door key’s on there, too—it’s the brass one, not the silvery-colored one, that’s the office. Need help?”
“No, it’ll only take two quick trips. You rest.”
“Thanks, dude. If you’ll let me wind down a little, you can run and do that—but come back quick.”
He tugged on jeans and shirt and shoes, went out into the freezing cold, and in three, not two, short trips he brought in the groceries and his duffel. He found the kitchen, stored the cold stuff in the fridge and left the rest on the table, and then went back to the bedroom.
Wendy was working on her pussy with a buzzing dildo. “This is a poor substitute,” she complained as she fucked herself with it. “Can you get hard again?”
“Not right now,” he said. “But if you want, I can help you play with that.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
It was kind of fascinating, holding the base of the vibrator and watching her oozing pussy gleam so pink as he pumped her. She kept gasping and writhing, moving her hips to help him along, and once more her face, neck, and even tits blushed a bright pink as her orgasm built. Then, even her toes clenching, she yipped, “Yeah! Like—like that! I—ooh! I don’t know what the hell’s happening! I never have—faster, man—multiple orgasms. Or I never used to have—oh, FU-U-U-UCK! Yeah! Oh, I fuckin’ love you, man! Whoo!” she gasped for air. “You can pull it out and switch it off now, Dip. I, I think I’m good for a while.”
He found the slider and turned the vibe off. It was a big, fat, long one. Maybe even ten inches of pink rubbery stimulation, now shiny with girl-juice. She grinned at him as he gingerly laid the toy on her bedside table. “Yeah, you’re spoiling me for the regular old bullet-shaped or mushroom kind. That one’s soft and flexible and it has that rotating band of ball bearings or whatever inside it. It always, you know, relieves my tensions. But I’ll tell you flat-out, the vibe’s still smaller than you are, and most of all, it doesn’t give me any luscious cum.” She ran her hands over her breasts, and Dipper saw how they had a fine sheen of lady-grease. “Look at these!” she said. “Damn, my nipples just won’t go down!”
In fact, they were standing up and sticking out for more than an inch. “I’ll help with them, too,” he said. He leaned over to suckle them, making Wendy murmur, “Feels good.” Then she shivered. “Wait, is something weird happening?”
Dipper pulled away, a hot, sweet taste fresh on on his tongue—and a little white jet fountained from her left nipple. He covered it with his lips and sucked until he felt it return, more or less, to normal. Then he swallowed and said, “Wen, you’re lactating!”
“Milk?” she asked. “That’s impossible. I’m not pregnant, and I can’t get pregnant with the birth-control device I use. But that boob sure feels better. Uh—even ‘em out?”
“Yeah,” he said, nuzzling her right breast.
She put a hand on his head and teased his hair with her fingers. “It doesn’t gross you out?”
He looked at her over the swell of her breast—was it a little bit larger than it had been that morning?—and said, “Honestly, it tastes great. Let me see if you have any more.”
She did, and when the milk began to flow, she came again, yipping with yet another orgasm. She even tried going down on him again, but though he loved the sensation, his cock just couldn’t muster an erection or a spurt.
“Need to drink something,” they both said almost in unison.
Well, there was the milk. They sat at the dining table, she naked, he wearing only undershorts, and each drank nearly a pint of it. “Our body chemistry’s somehow screwed up,” Dipper said. “It’s like our bodies are demanding protein and liquids so we can produce milk and semen.”
“Can’t say I hate it,” Wendy told him. She looked at him quizzically and then blurted, “You want to move in with me?”
“I’d love to,” he told her. “Only first we have to cure ourselves, and then you might not even want me.”
“To tell you the truth,” Wendy said, reaching over to clasp his hand, “I think I always wanted you. Wanted to feel you inside me. Cumming in my mouth. Fucking me every which way there is. I just didn’t realize that until this morning at breakfast!”
Squeezing Wendy’s hand, Dipper said, “For years I’ve dreamed and fantasized about loving you, and, uh, even marrying you.”
With a grin, Wendy said, “Sweet, Dipper. But I’m still kinda old for you.”
“Not any longer,” he said. “Right now, though—I mean I couldn’t support you—"
“Man,” Wendy told him, “I’ve got a great business going. Let me support you! You can keep on doing your research and all until you get a career, and whatever that is, I know you’ll be a success. Hey, Dip, I can wait. Long as you fuck me or let me suck you off once ever four hours.”
“Deal,” he said.
Because he was Dipper, he washed and rinsed the glasses before they went back to bed. Now that they weren’t heated so much with passion, they got under the covers and cuddled. Wendy sighed. “Huh. You really think you’d like to marry me?”
“I absolutely do,” he said.
She kissed him. “I do, too. There. I said it. Far as I’m concerned, we’re unofficially married.”
With a wicked grin, Dipper said, “Let me kiss the bride.” He got out of bed, swept the covers off her, and tugged her legs until she sat on the edge of the mattress again.
She understood what he was going for and obligingly spread her legs and leaned back. “Kiss me right here, and I’m yours forever!”
He got on his knees and showed her how much he loved her.
And just as she spasmed for, what, the fifth time that afternoon? Something like that. At that very moment Dipper’s phone chimed from the living room, where he had dropped his jeans with the phone in it.
“Whoof!” Dipper said, rising and wiping his chin with his palm. “That’ll be the information gruncle Stanford promised he’d send me.”
Wendy, looking somewhat dazed, said, “Before you go to the computer and all, do me a favor and bring me one more glass of milk.”
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Smells Like Teen Spurts