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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
- 5
- 6
- 7
6. On the Case
1
Saturday evening and Sunday morning passed in a blur for Dipper Pines. The girls were voracious in their desire for his cum, and they prompted him to produce as much of it as he could, which was a hell of a lot more than normal. In between sucking and fucking, they mostly ate high-protein foods and drank, especially milk—and Wendy confirmed that, so far, she hadn’t gained an ounce, although her breasts were fuller and whenever she reached orgasm, she regularly produced milk. The same happened with Tambry on Sunday morning.
The two of them took turns milking each other—literally, Wendy pulling on Tambry’s now long, dark nipples until she’d pulled two to three ounces into a measuring cup, and then Wendy got on all fours and Dipper held a second cup while Tambry pulled and squeezed and Wendy just barely beat out Tambry’s production. Both girls had different, but intense orgasms while being milked. Wendy playfully murmured, “Moo!” when hers hit.
Dipper fucked Wendy. He fucked Tambry. He came inside both of them, and they immediately sixty-nined so that the one who didn’t get filled up could suck out her share from the winner, while the winner made her partner cum. Then they’d rest, get up, eat and drink, and wait for Dipper’s mood to get seriously hard again.
The call came Sunday afternoon just after lunch. “My gruncle Stanford,” Dipper said, looking at the caller ID. “He’s making a face-time call. I need to take this.”
“Take it in the living room,” Wendy said, looking up from Tambry’s pussy. “’Cause we might get loud.”
Dipper, who had already shot his latest load into Tambry, took his phone and answered it on the way. “Mason,” said his great uncle’s voice, “I’m home. I mean, my old home in Gravity Falls. I’ve just checked the plant, and it’s intact and entering the dormant phase. Where are you? I’ll need some samples from you.”
“Uh—what kind of samples?” he asked.
“Semen and blood,” Stanford told him. “Now, think: Has anyone else been infected?”
Dipper bit his lip. “No other guys,” he said, emphasizing the last word.
“Good, good. We should be safe, then, as you are Patient Zero. The Enhancing Fern won’t be infectious again until it flowers, and it won’t flower without being watered—wait a moment, ‘no other guys?’ What are you implying? Do you mean there’s a female infectee?”
“Wendy,” Dipper said reluctantly. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, but—”
“Ah, of course, she works here, so she must have come in contact—”
“Uh, she doesn’t work here these days,” Dipper said. “She’s managing a business for her father, but I ran across her in town and she said I smelled, um, attractive and insisted on driving me home, and then we were so excited that we, you know, had sex, and then she started to be sexier too. This is hard to talk about.”
Stanford nodded. “Of course, I understand. That would be the way the chemical stimuli work. Tell me, though, what are her symptoms?”
Dipper couldn’t meet his gaze. “This is embarrassing.”
“It’s science,” his uncle said in a kind voice. “You were experimenting in a responsible way and the effects took you by surprise. No blame attaches. Now you and she ae a bit ill. Think of it that way.”
“Well . . .” Dipper paused and then said, “she loves to drink my, um, semen. And her breasts have swelled, and she’s, uh, lactating.”
To his surprise, his great uncle smiled and nodded. “Ah, so I was correct in my hypothesis. I had indirectly established that the plant enhances sexual feelings and abilities. I believe the aliens must have had similar physiologies to our own.”
“It’s an alien plant?” Dipper blurted. “It might make us metamorphose into, into sentient frogs or something?”
Stanford held up his twelve fingers to stop Dipper’s rush of words. “No, no! It enhances, it doesn’t transmogrify! Yes, the plant came from Crash Site Omega. The aliens whose craft smashed there bred the plants for an obvious purpose: When they settled a new planet, they wanted to reproduce as rapidly as possible, and the plant would get everyone in the mood, so to speak, to have frequent relations and produce big families. Wait, have you impregnated Wendy?”
“No, she’s got a birth-control implant,” Dipper said.
“That’s fortunate. Since she’s infected, I’ll need samples from her as well.”
“Won’t you need a gas mask or something?”
“Hm? Oh, no, no. The way the transmission operates is that females for some reason are immune to the plant spores. Only males produce the pheromone. In turn, only females are susceptible to the genetic markers in male fluids. They can become infected via semen, possibly via blood or saliva, too, but they cannot transmit the infection to males or directly to other females. It takes personal exposure of a female to, well, a male’s fluids, for her system to go into overdrive producing the hormones that make her, ah—what is the scientific word for extreme arousal? That, anyway. Luckily, we should be able to treat you and Wendy with no serious after-effects.”
"Gruncle Stanford? What if a girl has some fluids from the guy on her skin or in her mouth and, um, another girl licks her or kisses her?"
"Oh, that's direct exposure," Stanford said. "In that case, yes, the second girl would become infected. At least there's not another girl involved. Or is there?"
“Um—there’s her friend Tambry, too,” Dipper muttered.
Stanford face-palmed. “Oh, my stars! Anyone else?”
“No, that’s it,” Dipper said.
“And I suppose that once, ah, you indulge in activity with one of the young women, the other one, ah is aroused and the two of them feel an attraction for each other—”
“Yes, they have sex with each other, too,” Dipper said.
With a sigh, Stanford muttered, “The bisexual female syndrome. It’s endemic in the town and valley, and I suppose that’s because of a contaminant in the drinking water that I never managed to isolate. At least they all seem to enjoy it.”
“So—you can fix this?” asked Dipper.
“Yes, that’s theoretically possible. I saw your car here outside the house,” Stanford said. “Where are you now? Have you transportation? How soon can you—all three of you—be here at the Mystery Shack?”
“I’ll call you back.” Dipper turned off the video call and rubbed his eyes. “Oh, boy.”
In the bedroom, Wendy and Tambry waited for him in bed, face-down, butts high in the air, and both giggling. “Finish us off, Dipper!” Wendy said.
“Use your fingers!” Tambry added helpfully.
“Girls—”
“Just one more time,” Wendy said. “Come on, we’re still horny, so help us out.”
So Dipper slipped in bed with them. They made him lie back between them and reach up to stroke and finger-fuck their pussies while they both slurped and licked his unfortunately unresponsive cock, murmuring happily as they found small traces of cum. Dipper made them both cum and squirt one more time—now they were ejecting about a tablespoon each of a liquid that looked a little like half-and-half water and skim milk, though it had a distinctly sweet taste.
“So good,” Tambry said in a happy lazy voice as they cuddled on either side of him.
“Four more hours, darn it,” Wendy said, kissing and sucking his neck.
“Girls,” Dipper said, “I don’t want to embarrass you or anything, but—” he took a deep breath. Then he told them they needed to go over to the Shack. “Gruncle Stanford is going to try to make an antidote,” he said. “But he needs samples from us all to do it.”
“Blood samples?” asked Tambry, making a face. “I’m not so great with needles.”
“Uh, yeah, and samples of—well,” Dipper said, “put it this way: He needs samples of our sex secretions, too.”
Wendy said thoughtfully, “You mean you gotta cum and make us cum, too.”
“I guess so,” Dipper said.
“We have to do it, Tam,” Wendy said. “A little jab’s not much. And I agree with Dip—I love all the sex and fun, but we can’t fuck twenty-four seven. We gotta get this under control.”
“But I don’t want it to stop!” Tambry said.
“I don’t think it needs to,” Dipper told her. “Only—from what I understand, I’ll go off this, uh, schedule and we can be normal again. I mean, I’ll get an erection not by the clock but whenever I get excited.”
“That sounds like a good trade-off,” Tambry said, her expression brightening up. “Wendy?”
“Let’s get dressed and go,” she said. “But I gotta have something to drink and eat first!”
In the basement of the Mystery Shack, Stanford, now quite gray but otherwise not much changed from the summer when Dipper was twelve, had considerately dressed in a lab coat. He assured Tambry and Wendy, “You can think of me as a physician. I do hold an M.D. degree, although I have never formally practiced. I need to examine you all and then take specimens.”
“Can Dipper stay with us while you do it?” Wendy asked.
“If he’s amenable, certainly,” Stanford said. “I understand that your sexual urges are far above their normal levels, so any signs of excitement I shall regard as symptoms. I will not take advantage of you. Rest assured, everything that happens here falls under doctor-patient confidentiality.”
Without much self-consciousness, Wendy and Tambry stripped and let him examine them, head to toe, outside and, with a speculum, inside. He made a special note that their nipples were extraordinarily sensitive. “Down there, too,” Tambry told him, idly stroking her clitoris.
Dipper obligingly stimulated their clits while Stanford observed and made notes. “You both ejaculate, too,” he said. “Usually only fifty per cent of females report that.”
“Yeah, when we cum, we squirt. And we’re oozing milk,” Wendy said.
He collected some drops from both girls, and then he took a few cc’s of blood from each one. “Wasn’t too bad,” Tambry conceded as he applied a Band-Aid with a cartoon squirrel on it.
While he was at it, he also collected a blood sample from Dipper. “I’ll run tests with a portion of each sample,” he said. “And then when I get the other fluids, I’ll start work on an antidote.”
“Dr. Pines,” Wendy asked, “can you smell Dipper?”
“I haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary,” he said.
“Because Tambry and I—”
“Yeah, I can smell it right now, and it’s got my motor running. And the check-out girl at the grocery store noticed it too,” Tambry added. “It, well, you know, it’s a personal thing with him.”
Wendy came to her rescue: “We can smell a sexy aroma coming from Dipper’s di—uh, from his penis. It’s strongest when he’s got an erection, but I can smell it whenever he’s close.”
“Me, too,” Tambry said.
“I believe that it’s a unique pheromone that only females can detect,” Stanford said. “Let me get a sniffer.”
That turned out to be a small yellow vacuum-like device that took air samples. He took several from Dipper, head to toe, clothed and naked, with the girls looking on and grinning. “I’ll run this through the analyzer,” Stanford said. “I’m fairly sure the antidote will neutralize or at least reduce the production of the pheromones, too.” He cleared his throat. “Um, Mason, I couldn’t help noticing that the Enhancing Fern has, um—”
“Enhanced his penis,” Wendy said. “Enhanced it like nobody’s business! He says it’s nearly twice as fat and long as it was a few days ago.”
“Remarkable,” Ford said. “Well, I can understand why some males would be eager to experience the effect. It’s my belief that the species that originated the plant must have experienced the enhancement to a lesser extent, or perhaps the process was a symbiotic one between plants and aliens. It’s much more pronounced in humans, possibly because . . ..” He trailed off while pondering.
Interrupting him, Wendy asked, “When will the antidote be ready?”
“Hm? Oh. Difficult to say. There’s mixing and processing to do, and then a series of chemical reactions should take place. I’ve already juiced one lobe of the plant. Now, if you can, um, produce some, well, sexual fluids for me to work with—”
“I can’t for a couple of hours,” Dipper said. He explained how his erections demanded periods of eating and drinking and then appeared, on the average, about three and a half to four and a half hours apart.
“Extraordinary,” Ford said. “Well—when the time comes, here’s what I want you to do.”
That was why, a little later in the day, the three young people were up in the bedroom. On the table rested a rack of small stoppered test tubes, twelve in all, and four separate pipettes, rubber bulb droppers.
The test tubes were labeled with their names, and Dipper’s and the girls’ jobs were to produce fluids. Dipper was to collect from Wendy and Tambry samples of their vaginal secretions and their ejaculate. Theirs were to collect his precum, semen, and saliva.
Tambry complained at first that it seemed like a biology experiment for school, but her objections faded as Dipper’s dick began to stiffen slightly. “Oh, well,” she said cheerfully. “Let the experiment begin!”
Dipper and the girls stripped down and Wendy took one of the three 200 milliliter Griffin flasks that Stanford had given them for the effort. “Now, how much does he need?”
Tambry knelt on a pillow, stroking Dipper’s cock and licking her lips. He kept thinking how crazy this was—and how horny he was. He said, “Just—just ten to twelve cc’s. A-about two teaspoonfuls. Enough to fill a test tube.”
“We can have the rest! Yum!” Wendy said. She held the flask up so he could shoot into it. It was more than adequate—a sort of handle-less flat-bottom measuring cup with a gauge stenciled on the side ranging from ten to two hundred and fifty milliliters.
“Help me out here,” Tambry said. “My clit’s throbbing and I wanna sip of Dip juice.”
Wendy joined her in giving Dipper a handjob. “Does he need precum?” she asked. “’Cause you’re leaking it like crazy.”
“Looks like baby oil,” Tambry said.
“Try to get some—uh—in a dropper,” he gasped. “Let me sit, this is making me shaky.”
Wendy reached for one of the pipettes—they were color-coded, blue for Dipper, pink for Tambry, green for Wendy, and one plain black one. “Hold him steady, girlfriend,” she told Tambry as Dipper sat. He really was oozing clear precum, and she used the rubber bulb to suck up a little of it as it formed drops on the underside of his cock. She transferred them to a test tube and showed it to him. “How much is this?”
“T-two milliliters,” Dipper said. “That’ll have to be enough. I'm getting close! Don’t let me miss the flask!”
“He’s starting to jerk, Wen!” Tambry said. “He’s gonna blow!”
“Ahh!” Dipper grunted. A thick jet of cum shot hard into the flask.
“Holy crap, I felt that one!” Wendy said. “Oops!”
His dick twitched upward and she missed his second shot, which arced over the flask.
“Damn, you hit the window, Dip!” Tambry said. “That’s like eight feet off the floor! Help me get this next one, Wendy!”
Wendy did by holding the flask very close to him as Tambry kept a grip on his dick. “This smell’s making me dizzy,” Wendy said. “Got that one! And that one! And . . . come on, you can do one more for us!”
“Uhhh!” Dipper moaned as his last spurt landed neatly in the flask. “H-how much is that?”
Wendy held the flask of pearl-white cum up to the light. “Let’s see . . . it’s between a hundred and a hundred twenty-five.”
“How much is the normal guy ejaculation?” Tambry asked.
“About three to five milliliters,” Dipper said. “I think a little more is on the way!”
“So—my God, this is like twenty-five times normal!” Wendy said, setting the beaker carefully on the table.
“I've got a shot left. If you girls could suck just a little—”
“Poor guy!” Tambry dived in and vacuumed some cum from his tip, leaning back with a drool of it running down his chin.
“Leave any for me?” Wendy fondled his balls and sucked, too, and got a small jet—maybe a standard measure of five milliliters. She swallowed and sighed. “Good stuff!”
“Hurry, Wen!” pleaded Tambry. “Fill up the fucking test tube and let’s drink the rest!”
“O-okay,” Wendy said. She carefully, but with trembling hands filled one of the test tubes—it held twelve cc’s and was only about three inches long—and then capped it with a blue rubber cork. Despite a fierce surge of desire, she took the test tube with his clear precum and sealed that, too. “Th-there,” she said.
“Gimme!” Tambry said, reaching for the flask. “Clean up his dick for him and then we’ll share.”
Wendy did, and she must have found some random dribbles on his shaft because she gulped and threw back her head with an “Ahhh.” Then she grinned at Tambry, who'd taken a big swig from the flask and whose lips looked frosted with cum. “Done. Now share that guy gloop with me, bitch!”
Grinning, Tambry said, “Right away, slut!” She had swallowed about half of the flask’s contents. She took another big mouthful and then lewdly kissed Wendy, sharing the still-warm liquid with her. They both writhed and a fine sheen of perspiration made their skins glow.
When the girls broke their passionate, cum-rich kiss, random streams ran down their chins and they had to lick each other. Tambry, quivering, moaned, “Now I’m gonna need . . . ugh! Some fuckin’—unh! Or eatin’ out, I gotta cum!”
“Dipper, let’s lay on the floor!” Wendy said. “You eat my pussy, I’ll eat Tam’s, and she’ll take care of your cock until it goes down again. Oh, wait! Get us test tubes! We’re both squirting milk, so you can collect some more for the doc. Hurry, Dip!”
He provided them with the glass tubes, they milked themselves into them, easily filling one each. Duty called, and Dipper stoppered Wendy’s with green and Tambry’s with pink, and then the cock-hungry girls pulled him down to the floor. He lay on his right side, Wendy’s right thigh pillowing his cheek, and started to lick her gleaming, intensely pink pussy . “Yeah!” she said. “Feels so good! Fingers, too! I need—mpffh!”
Tambry had pulled her head against her crotch and started to moan as she licked and sucked at Dipper’s deflating cock. Both girls had two orgasms each just from the oral attention, and then as Dipper finger-fucked Wendy—he had an idea she was doing the same thing to Tambry—Wendy had at least one more. And then Dipper jerked in surprise as Tambry eased a finger into his rectum.
“P-prostate massage!” Tambry said. “Enjoy it, Dip—aw, my Gawd, Wendy!”
The unexpected attention did buck Dipper up for one last, diminished squirt into Tambry’s welcoming mouth. They slowly came down from the sexual high, murmuring, kissing, and caressing each other.
Then Dipper said, “Oh, dammit.”
“What?” Wendy asked. “Hey, Tam, suck my nipples. I’m still leaking a little bit.”
“You have to do mine,” Tambry warned, but she got busy.
“It’s just—in the, uh, heat of the moment—well, I was supposed to try to collect your and Tambry’s secretions and, um, your ejaculate and—”
“Damn,” agreed Wendy. “You know what this means? Oh, God, there’s another one, thanks Tambry! It just means—yeah, I’ll suck yours in a minute—it just means we gotta do this all over again!”
“Yay!” cheered Tambry as Wendy began to swallow her milk.

2
When his gruncle Stanford understood how urgently the girls constantly craved Dipper’s semen—“My word, this is extraordinarily thick and, um, copious!” he had a suggestion: “I’ll put about a hundred milliliters of dilute saline in the flask with what remains. Your sperm probably don’t have to be motile for the, um, concoction to stimulate your friends, since it’s a matter of chemical messengers. Let the girls rest for an hour or so and then let them divide and consume the solution. You be ready with pipettes and test tubes for collecting their arousal fluid, and if possible, their ejaculate. Use the Griffin flasks to gather the latter, though collecting may be a bit, um, tricky. From my informal observation, a female ejaculation tends to erupt as a spray, so the flask must be close to her, um, source. Try not to introduce any of your own semen into the mixture. I don’t know if all that will be easy.”
“I think we can manage it,” Dipper told him. "Then put the liquid into the test tubes?"
"Precisely, and color-code them. I hope they can produce. Females usually have to be in an extreme state of arousal to ejaculate.
Dipper thought they should be able to achieve an extreme state of arousal, because the girls liked each other. A lot. Additionally, Wendy had packed two fairly small and discreet curved vibes just in case the need for stimulating their clitorises and g-spots arose.
So later that afternoon, again in the privacy of the attic bedroom, Wendy said, “I think we better take this in turns just to make sure we don’t fuck it up.”
“So to speak,” Tambry replied with a grin. “Okay, so I got first turn with the undiluted stuff. Wendy, you see if this watered-down version does anything to you. I’ll play with your pussy and Dipper will man the dropper.”
Wendy took the beaker containing a few tablespoonfuls of the milky solution and sniffed it. “Yeah, the aroma’s right!” she said. “I’d say this is a good vintage. Here’s to fucking!” She raised the flask as though it were a champagne flute and knocked back the diluted cum, rolling it around in her mouth and then swallowing. “It’s doing something,” she said. “I feel a tingle starting.”
She lay on her back on the bed, and a kneeling Tambry stimulated her pink and swelling clit with the round tip of a vibe. In moments her pussy was glistening, fluids flowing, and as Wendy moaned and twitched in rising ecstasy, Dipper knelt next to Tambry, using a pipette to collect her fluid. “Can’t take this for long,” Wendy groaned. “G-gonna cum! Got the glass ready, Dipper?”
He held it close to her pussy. “Ready! “
“Call your shot!” Tambry said. “After you do it, I’ll pump you with the vibe and lick your clit!”
“And D-Dip can suck my nipples!”
Dipper looked up and saw that she was playing with her new, heavy-duty nips.
“Cum for us, Wendy!” Tambry said. “For science!”
“I’m gonna cu—oh, God, yeah!”
Tambry pulled the vibe back, Dipper cupped her pussy, though she was twitching, and he caught the spray. It looked to be about ten or fifteen millimeters, and he filled a test tube as Tambry knelt and eased the buzzing dildo into her friend's pussy.
"Dip! Little tit sucking here!" Wendy said.
"Glad to help." He nuzzled her breasts and began to sip her milk.
As Dipper suckled her nipples, she ran her fingers through his hair. “That feels so great. Uh, how about you? Not hard yet?” she whispered.
“Uh-uh,” he told her.
“Keep going, Tam,” she said.
“I’ve got a vibe in your pussy and a finger in your asshole!” Tambry said.
“Little harder. It’s not gonna be as earth-shaking as with Dip’s dick, but—yeah, I’m getting’ there again!”
She moaned, spasmed, and her nipple spurted into Dipper’s mouth.
“Ahh,” she sighed. “Thanks, guys, I’m good, I’m good. Let me catch my breath and then we’ll get Tambry wet and suck up her pussy juice and let her cum in a glass, too.”
“I’m wet already,” Tambry said, lying down next to her. “Dipper, get the dropper and suck up some of my girl juice. Then Wendy’ll make me cum.”
While the girls kissed and fondled each other, Dipper knelt. Tambry was wet, but not yet dripping. She gave him some advice: “Fingers, Dipper! Don’t think I’ll need the vibe, but use your fingers, left hand. Bowling ball grip.”
“I don’t know what that is,” Dipper admitted.
Both girls giggled. Wendy said kindly, “Two fingers in her pussy, Dip, and thumb up her butt. Then massage.”
“Nhhh!” Tambry murmured a few seconds later. “He catches on quick! How’s it flowing?”
“Nearly a pipette full,” he reported.
“Put it aside and grab that beaker,” she said. “Then tease my clit with the tip of the vibe and get ready to catch what I shoot out!”
“Poor Dip, you’re working so hard,” Wendy said.
“We’ll make it up to you,” Tambry promised.
“Soon as you’re ready again,” Wendy said.
"We'll drive you fuckin' crazy," Tambry said cheerfully.
“It’s a deal,” Dipper agreed, feeling obscurely like a mischievous Bill Cipher.
- 5
- 6
- 7
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Smells Like Teen Spurts