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Big Dipper's New Groove, or: Scents and Nonsense	By : Richard_Priapi Category: -Misc Cartoons > Crossovers Views: 848 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I make no claim to Gravity Falls, or any of the characters/environments referenced in this story.

Chapter List
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Note to my perverts: Sex scene 1 starts near CTRL F swept

Dipper hadn’t felt so trapped since falling into the bottomless pit back home. Despite all his work to advance in school, there had been one gen-ed class West Coast Tech had decided not to honor his AP credit for. He rubbed the bridge of his nose in hopes that he could cram the patience back into his skull. In the front of the room, a mousey-haired desi brunette looked up in alarm- he watched her wrestle a laptop charger from her backpack and whip her head around before standing, hunched to make herself as small as possible. Her stealth was sabotaged by the clash of her crisp white polo against the 90s-neon athletic shorts below. He waved her down, gesturing to the outlet nested in the floor under his table. Her gratitude was palpable as she laid her bag on the table with him. He politely tried to ignore the view she presented as she crawled under the table to plug in her charger. Still, her tight jersey shorts did little to hide her curves or diminish the tone of her cinnamon-brown thighs as she leaned forward to push it that last millimeter.
He had barely been able to break his eyes away in time to meet her gaze in a halfway sociable manner when she wriggled out from under the table, slid into her seat, and mouthed her thanks. The last few minutes of class dragged out and finally they were free to mingle.
“Thanks again for helping me out.”
“No worries. We nerds have to stick together.”
Her eyes fell. “Is it that obvious?”
He chuckled. “Hey, we’re in our natural habitat. Nothing to worry about. I’m Dipper, by the way.”
“Connie. I don’t think I’ve seen you in class before.”
“This isn’t one of my favorites. I keep a low profile, save my energy for anthropology of technology.”
“Oh, with Dr. Rossi? I had him last semester, he’s a blast!” She lowered her voice and whispered with dramatic urgency, “Just don’t get him started on the Dendera light unless you like fireworks.”
They shared a laugh. Dipper couldn’t remember meeting a girl so easily since… ever, really. Was his time with Wendy making him more confident? Or did having something going on just erase the sexual tension with new people? A conundrum for later, he decided.
“So what class are you heading to?”
“I’m actually on my way to tennis practice.”
“Oh snap, you must know Wendy!”
Her eyes lit up. “Yes! Oh my gosh, how do you know the Corduroy Cannon?” She slipped her backpack on, standing up.
“We go way back.” May have saved the world together once or twice, he left out. He tried to lean back casually in his chair to deliver the line with a finger-gun, but pinwheeled his arms frantically as he nearly tipped it over. Connie caught his arm and flopped him back to stability.
“Good to meet a friend of Wendy’s. Have fun with Dr. Rossi.”
“Will do. Seeya round, Connie.”
------------------------
Wendy’s muscles ached. The time she’d spent playing around with Dipper had muddled her focus at practice, so today she’d gone all-in. It may have been a slight overcorrection. She peeled off her t-shirt- she had given up tank tops at practice to avoid drawing attention to her underarms- and tossed it into her gym bag. She couldn’t help but think of him as she eyed the sweat-soaked cloth. She nearly leapt out of her skin when a voice chimed in behind her.
“Hey Wendy! You were amazing out there today!”
She pinned her arms tightly to her sides to hide the uneven crops of hair and stubble, turning to be sociable.
“Oh! Um, thanks Connie. You too- loved that spike serve.”
Connie’s grin was conspirational. “I call it the overhead death strike.”
“I can see why. Bet you could KO a killer robot with that thing.”
“You’d be surprised. By the way, I ran into a mutual friend today. Is Dipper, um, always like that?”
Wendy relaxed her posture a notch, a smile tugging at her lips.
“With absolutely zero context I can assure you that he’s usually worse.”
They shared a good-natured laugh at his expense.
“Oh good, I thought it was just me. Well, as long as he has the seal of approval.”
Wendy could picture their meeting all too well. Two turbonerds in class, laughing at a professor’s cheesy puns, leaning over to check each other’s notes. Arranging study sessions at the library. Missing practice, maybe…
“We should all hang out sometime.” She offered.
Connie’s phone chirped. As she looked down to check it, Wendy whipped a flannel button-up out of her bag, slinging it around her and starting to button as Connie looked up from her messages.
“How’s this weekend? That was my boyfriend. He’ll be visiting from Delmarva and I think meeting some people outside of Beach City would be really good for him.”
“He’s a little shy, huh?”
“Noooot exactly. He kind of proposed before my freshman semester.”
“Wow. Fuckin’ virgin alert!”
Connie’s smile turned sly. “Not recently.”
“Connie Maheshwaran, virgin slayer? I love it. Yeah, we could make it a whole thing. Have to get this boy around people.”
Connie clapped her hands giddily. “A double date! I love it.”
“Dipper and I aren’t dating.” Wendy caught herself off guard with the flat force of her voice. Connie paused mid-clap, adding an awkward laugh- could she swing it as a joke?
“I mean… group hang, double date, I think the only real difference is who’s paying, am I right?”
Wendy flashed a wan smile. “Totes. So… Saturday, right?”
------
The four sat around a table at a hip new fusion cuisine restaurant near campus with a global menu, each wolfing down their preferred quick eats.
“And that’s when I thought “wow, small campus!”
“I know, right? At this point I wouldn’t be surprised to bump into my uncle or his weird ex- think he called her the bird lady.” Dipper paused for a sip of chocolate milkshake.
“Well, I don’t know about that. Unless one of them is pursuing their doctorate.” Connie quipped over the steaming chow mein noodles dangling from her chopsticks.
“Hah! I wish. Last I heard my uncles were still travelling the world in a boat they built together. Sorry, that was weird.”
Steven piped up around a mouthful of curry.
“Not at all! The gems… my moms, I mean, are pretty close too. They do weird stuff all the time! A boat would be step towards normal for them.
“Oh, you’ve got two moms? What was that like growing up?” Wendy asked. She could see Connie taking a bracing swig of soda.
“Well actually, depending on how you count it I have… three? Up to six if you count my real mom, but I never got to meet her.” Steven noticed the “content buffering” faces that his new friends were making and tried to backpedal. “Just the one dad though, and he’s cool with it!”
Connie flapped her wrists like she could blow the conversation away. “It isn’t that strange when you remember they’re aliens!”
Silence fell over the table. Dipper’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates. Sweat began to bead on Steven’s forehead and he adjusted the collar of his pink letterman jacket.
Dipper broke the silence first, leaning in close over tented fingers.
“Steven. I have something very important to ask you. Is anyone in your family familiar with a flying saucer crash in Gravity Falls, Oregeon?”
“Sorry,” Steven began tensely. “Don’t think that was us. But I have been to a few Gem wrecks from like, 5,000 years ago.”
“Tell me EVERYTHING,” Dipper’s breathless demand accompanied a pen and notepad sliding out of his pocket.
Connie and Wendy released breaths they hadn’t realized they were holding, glad that the boys were getting along so famously.
“You two are really taking that in stride.” Connie mused.
“Well, my hometown is kind of… a lot. Cards on the table? Dipper and I even helped saved the world there, if you can believe it.”
Connie clapped a hand over Wendy’s. “Oh my god, you too?? Aliens?”
Wendy’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Demons.”
Soon the table was overcome with the manic energy that manifests in only survivors of magical destiny or theater kids at Denny’s after a show wraps. Several adjoining tables became mysteriously vacant over the following minutes. As the stories of demonic triangles and 30-foot women slowly lost steam, Wendy’s thoughts returned to an earlier landmark in the conversation.
“Hey, Steven- you said you have a few moms and a dad, but you don’t seem like a cult leader’s son or anything. Is your family polyamorous?”
“No, they’re gems. Were the aliens who crashed in your town from polyamorous?”
Connie snort-laughed into her hand.
“No, Steven, she’s asking if the gems’ romantic relationships are open to others.”
“Oh, you mean like- ow!”
Wendy and Dipper both looked quizzically at Steven, missing the sharp glare Connie sent him.
“You could say that. It was kind of hard to read, growing up. I think Pearl would poof if she knew how many people she was really flirting with, but Amethyst definitely has a reputation around Little Homeworld. And Mom… probably didn’t know what she was doing. My dad actually had to teach her about dating just one person.”
“So let’s put a pin in that ‘Little Homeworld’ thing,” Dipper said, scrawling himself a hasty note, “Your family’s species really doesn’t have monogamous family structure?”
Steven wrung his hands together on the table.
“Honestly, gems don’t have families at all, usually. But my mom believed- taught- that freedom and love were the most important things in life, and you should share as much of each as you could.”
Connie reached across the table and took his hand.
“With us on different sides of the country, it’s actually something Steven and I have been looking to try for ourselves. Not that that’s why we asked you out to lunch!” She assured them.
“But now that we’re on the topic…” Wendy began, biting her lip pensively. “No labels, you just follow what feels right, with anyone who feels right?” Her eyes flitted from Connie to Dipper to Steven, the unknown in the equation. If she had to tell someone she’d never watched Connie’s chest bouncing as she bounded across the court to strike the ball or caught a glimpse of her rear in panties only as she leaned over her gym bag, she’d be lying. If they didn’t mind sharing… if they didn’t need to put each other in boxes… if it would help her relax about this thing with Dipper…
Dipper’s mind was swimming. He’d known Wendy had dated plenty of guys before, and the thought of her liking girls didn’t feel out of place. But this was sudden- what if it meant the sun was setting on his time with her? Connie sensed his nerves- or saw them written plainly on his face. She leaned across the table towards him, voice falling so that he could feel more than hear her words in his ear.
“It’s ok. You don’t have to try it if you aren’t comfortable. But I think this could be a really good time for all of us.”
A storm of possible answers caught in his throat, and he felt a crushing realization that the top button of her polo had come undone as she spoke to him, offering an enchanting window to her cinnamon-colored cleavage.
The waiter chose that moment to cut the thick sexual tension in the air by dropping the check in front of them.
“Oh, I’ve got it!” Steven chirped, eager to spread joy to his new friends.
Connie shot Wendy a knowing glance. “Like I was saying.” she mouthed.
---
They reconvened at Wendy’s dorm, buzzing with anticipation as they piled through her door.
“I know just what we need,” Wendy assured them. She bolted to her bookshelf, pulling aside a façade of cleverly mangled binders to reveal a handle of whiskey. “Wendy!” Connie’s gasp was a mix of admiration and fear- “Where did you get that? I thought you were only 20?”
Wendy winked. “Pays to have friends in low places.” She brought out some glasses and a 2-liter of Conk, and the four began to ease into the idea of their inaugural effort at sharing the love.
Wendy noticed Dipper gazing intently into his cup, laser focused on the ice as it cracked. She put a hand on his shoulder.
“You ok?”
“Oh fine!” He snapped out of his reveries. “It’s just the whiskey makes me think of my dad. He used to like sitting back with a glass, just pulling up a good seat and listening to music or watching something good. I guess that’s something I’ll be able to do soon.”
Connie’s ears perked up. She whispered something to Wendy, who flashed a wolfish grin, nodding curtly.
“We can make that happen. What do you say to a stiff drink and a good show?”
To clarify her point she gave Wendy’s back a slow caress, coming to rest her arm across her hips.
“Oh shit, I only have one good chair!” Wendy thought guiltily aloud.
“That won’t be a problem.” Steven answered shyly.
Swept along by the moment, Dipper found himself in the corner of Wendy’s bedroom seated on a beaten-up recliner, shirtless and holding a tumbler of whiskey on the rocks as the girls in their underwear crawled into bed.
Steven knelt next to him fully nude except for the slim chastity cage that enveloped his manhood.
“Are you sure you’re ok with that?” Dipper muttered through the corner of his mouth as the girls climbed into bed, clad only in their underwear.
“Don’t sweat it, this is something I’ve been wanting to try for a while,” Steven replied, gazing worshipfully at Connie, confident and outgoing as she and Wendy’s eyes pored over each other’s bare skin. So different from the girl who’d been too shy and anxious to tell her parents she didn’t need glasses.
The girls shared a moment pregnant with “This is it, we’re really doing this” vibes before they gave in and locked lips. They explored one another with closed lips for a moment, licking, nibbling, and kissing at each other’s’ lips until Connie’s opened in a cute little gasp. Wendy seized the opportunity to escalate to an open-mouthed kiss, and soon Connie’s tongue danced with hers.
Dipper’s cock twitched in excitement as he observed the two girls at play. Connie’s arms were moving mechanically across Wendy’s abdomen while Wendy’s hands made swift, purposeful strokes of fingertip and nail on Connie’s skin. He crossed his legs, trying to sip the burning brown in his glass in the most nonchalant way he could manage.
Wendy nudged Connie’s arms upwards, sliding her bra off over her shoulders and freeing her breasts. Wendy took a dark brown nipple between her lips, sucking and swirling her tongue around the delicate nub. Connie squirmed and gasped, fumbling to remove Wendy’s bra under the sensory onslaught. Finally it came free, and Connie took a tit in each hand, seemingly measuring the redhead’s endowments as she kneaded them or traced their outline with probing fingers. Dipper was fully hard now, and Steven strained against his cage, a bead of precum glistening at the opening in its tip.
“Dude, relax.” Wendy’s whisper purred in Connie’s ear. “We’re not exactly on Broadway here.”
Connie whimpered back. “It’s not that. This is just the first time that I…”
Wendy swallowed a grin to keep their conversation as private as possible.
“Got it. So do you want to try playing with me, or do you want me to do you?”
Connie blushed at the prosaic phrasing.
“I would like to… to play with you. Help?”
Wendy gave Connie a fervent kiss, then tore herself away.
“Start with what feels natural. I’ll take it from there.”
Connie nuzzled into the side of Wendy’s neck, laying a trail of kisses as she teased Wendy’s hair. Feeling patronized by Wendy’s whispers of encouragement she latched onto the other girl’s neck hard, sucking fiercely at her jugular. Wendy let out a staggered gasp and grabbed ahold of Connie’s hair as the hickey was engraved on her skin. Wendy guided Connie’s hands to the sides of her breasts. Connie kissed once or twice in the valley between those small, pert mounds before pressing one in her right hand and bringing her tongue to the nipple to her left. Wendy stroked her fingers across Connie’s back, tracing the lines of whipcord muscle under the smooth, soft skin. What Connie lacked in experience she brought in tender delight. She kissed that nipple with tongue as if trying to convince it to kiss her back while squeezing and pawing at the other breast in eager circles. As Wendy’s fingers in Connie’s hair pulled her friend downwards, leaving a trail of kisses down the shelves of her ribs and the firm flatness of her stomach, Dipper took an involuntary sip of whiskey. The sour, burnt caramel smell seemed at odds with the sweet sight in front of him.
Connie took an uneven series of anxious breaths as her hands froze at Wendy’s hips.
Wendy leaned forward to whisper towards her ear.
“You don’t have to go any further if you don’t want to.” She reminded Connie. The brunette shook her head.
“No! I want to do this. I’ve been waiting years for this, and now I’m going to do it. I just need to think.”
“There’s nothing to think about,” Wendy reassured her, voice creeping towards normal volume. “It’s just like yours, right? Touch it first. If it feels right to you, keep going. Kiss me if it helps.”
Connie took the advice to heart, fingers sliding over Wendy’s panties. The warm dampness beneath steeled her reserve. She crooked her fingers and began to rub gently, her thumb extended to press at the top of Wendy’s slit as she rose to meet the ginger’s lips with hungry kisses. Connie’s fingers sped faster as her confidence grew until Wendy’s panties were slick to the touch and the smell of her lust began to permeate the air. As Connie slid the panties to the side and slipped an ambitious finger in, Wendy hiked her knees up, bracing her feet on the bed and leaving a marvelous spread out view for their rapt audience. There was a fire in Connie’s eyes when she pulled herself back and brought her chin between Wendy’s legs. She’d tasted herself before when he had to swiftly hide evidence of her masturbation from approaching parents, but licking her own finger was nothing compared to this.

She dimly recognized Wendy’s perfume as a men’s cologne, and the balance of citrus and sandalwood blended with the smells and tastes of a mild afternoon’s sweat and the earthy tang of wet pussy. She kissed it like she had Wendy’s mouth; lips pressed tight to her labia, tongue exploring the lips before softly pushing inside. Her eyes flicked upwards a couple of times to check Wendy’s reactions, and after a small nod by the redhead Connie’s kiss deepened, fingers holding tight to the other girl’s hips.
Wendy rubbed a breast with a free hand, looking to Dipper. As he caught her eyes, they shared a moment of glorious spectatorship before Dipper’s attention was drawn to Connie’s ass. She was wiggling her panties down her thighs, which she spread to allow access for her probing fingers. She fiddled herself absentmindedly as Wendy pulled her hair to signal she needed to kiss higher, focus on her most sensitive spots. Dipper took another pull of the whiskey, pleased to find that with the smells of sex and sweat spreading, the whiskey’s own odor seemed friendlier.
Stars shone in Connie’s eyes as she pulled back, slickened face shining in the low light. Wendy craned her neck to look at her. Connie mouthed a name, and Wendy smiled.
“Hey Dipper. If you want to do more than just watch, I think Connie wants your attention.”
Dipper shot a panicky look at Steven; the gem boy simply bounced back and forth on his knees, waving Dipper forward with a jerk of his head. Dipper slammed back the last of the whiskey, stood to strip off the last of his clothing, and joined the threesome. He played the phrase back in his head- “joined the threesome!” Wendy had scooted further onto the bed, and Connie now joined her, head still diligently between Wendy’s thighs. He knelt to the floor, scarcely thinking to look before he leapt face first into her naturally thick bush. She threw her ass back at him. He squeezed the curve of her cheeks, planting nibbling kisses along her glutes. Moving to kiss the warm slit of her pussy, he parted her folds with an eager tongue. She let out a deep “mmm” and he leaned in as if his tongue could reach every inch of her. It brought his nose to a rest at the rim of her anus. The tight, tanned ring winked at him as his hand snaked between her thighs to massage her clit, sending spasms through her muscles. The smell between her legs was suffocating, intoxicating: the aroma of her ass brought a surprising note of cumin spice to the sweet and salted chorus of sweat and lust soaking her thighs.
Surely it was the whiskey talking. Surely he wasn’t this hormonal. Surely he indulged anyway- sliding three fingers into her waiting pussy he pulled back his head and let his tongue trace her asshole. She shuddered but didn’t break rhythm as she kept driving Wendy closer to the brink. He pressed his tongue against the opening and it relaxed. His tongue crept into her ass, clenched tightly by this new hole. His fingers continued to dive into her, each pull back bringing a fresh breeze of hot sex to his nostrils, each plunge of tongue and finger prying fresh cries of delight from her. After a minute he couldn’t take any more. He staggered to his feet and hilted himself in her cunt and a throaty moan rattled out of Connie’s occupied lips. The show going on in front of Wendy was too much to bear with a nimble tongue in her. She thrust her head back into the headboard and went stiff as a board as she groaned with her own climax.
“Oh fuck! Is this why they call you Dipper?” Connie whimpered.
“Good guess.” Wendy told her, combing her fingers through Connie’s hair. She extricated herself from Connie’s limp grip, returning on her knees to kiss her. At least that was the plan- Connie collapsed forward, pushing her face into the mattress. One hand traced furious circles at her clit. Wendy had a better idea. She withdrew a small bullet vibrator from her nightstand; brushing aside Connie’s hand, she turned it on. Over thirty seconds she increased it from soft to max, her other hand raking nails across Connie’s back. Overcome with the sensations all around her Connie screamed into the mattress as her orgasm stretched past the thirty second mark. Dipper pounded her for all his worth, quietly cherishing the novelty of the vibrations that massaged him through an already pulsating hole.
“This is it!” he called. He meant to pull back, but Connie threw her ass back into him, taking his load deeply, feeling its foreign warmth inside her. As he slowly went limp she relaxed and sagged forward, the last few dribbles of cum drooling out of his dick as he came free of her.
She rolled heavily to her back, stretching like someone jut woken up from a long nap.
“Dipper, Wendy, that was amazing.” She grabbed a hold of the nearest hand from each of them.
“Steven sweetie, did you enjoy the show?”
Lust-drunk with the need to cum, his approving remarks came as an incoherent mumble.
Connie looked between Dipper and Wendy. “Now Steven has a favor to ask you. Neither of us will mind if you say no. Go ahead, Steven.”
“Dipper, do you mind if I eat your load out of my girlfriend?”
Dipper and Wendy looked like they’d been splashed with cold water. No, cold gelatin. Still, Dipper had faced weirdmageddon, so he only missed a beat or two before responding.
“Go for it, my dude. She’s all yours.”
Steven scrambled forward on all fours, thrusting his tongue into Connie, her nose pressed firmly into her thick nest of sex-slicked hair as he licked and sucked her clean. She ran her fingers absently through his hair.
“There’s a good boy. You’ve been so patient today. After you’re done I’ll go talk to them, see about getting you your treat.”
He kept licking, and the three mostly-aware parties in the room shared a tense moment as Connie’s breath fell into a quick, shallow pace.
“I think he’s going to uhh! Keep eating me out. Any chance you could give us a f-YOO minutes?”
Dipper and Wendy spoke wordlessly. She gave him a quick gesture- a toss of the wrist. He raised an eyebrow, returned the gesture- a few jerks of the wrist. She rolled her eyes. One jerk of the wrist, open mouth. He nodded. A drink right now would make things just perfect.
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Big Dipper's New Groove, or: Scents and Nonsense