The True Story of Where is RiffDog

*have you been to Riff’s? Seriously, one of the funniest, mangiest dawgs this nilla has ever ‘met’…and yet, despite (because of ?) the footloose philandering,  there is a sweetness,  perhaps even an “innocent” charm there. And did i mention that Riff  is completely totally hysterical? Seriously…if you have not visited his site, it’s in the blog roll over there…..(and highly recommended by this  picky reader…..)  >>>>.

If you like tongue-in (i was going to say cheek but his tongue has been in so many places…)…lets just say if you like bawdy humor, you must go there. But heed this warning, gentle reader….. do go without a full bladder or a mouthful of your fave beverage or you’ll pee your pants or squirt your drink onto your monitor. You’ve been warned!!!

Riff has been gone for a while now, 3 weeks and counting, and he gave your nilla a huge plug in his last post, and there’ve been some Riff-fans popping over here to get a look into my dirty little mind. (waves to Riffs readers…hey! welcome!!)

Both in Riff’s blog comments, AND in a chat we were having, sin challenged me to write a story explaining Riff’s absence. After pondering the issue for a while (and hoping that the dawg would return sooner rather than later….)  i have decided to take on that challenge. Here then, is the “true” story of  Where is Riff Dog….Oh….”Where oh where can he be”  ~n~

p.s. please note that names have been changed to protect the…participants (you didn’t really think i was gonna say ‘innocent’ didja??! *laughs wickedly*)



“Don’t fight it, sweetie.”

“I think he just called you a motherfucker, Dilly.”

“You think so, Dolly?” She looked over her shoulder to take in the view, a handsome, well-built, oh, so well-built, man, tied to the bedposts. The large pink ballgag in his mouth added insult to injury.

“he did enjoy the thought of ‘doin’ twins, when we met at the restaurant,” and she threw back her blonde curls and giggled. Her sister joined in.

“Men are so fucking predictable. You know, sister mine, I think it’s time we move on, though. We’ll take care of this guy, and then…*poof*. She closed her finger tips together and popped them open like a flower bud opening.


Headline, New York Daily Press

Another victim of a bizarre crime has been found in a small hotel room off of Madison Way. Police have linked this crime to several similar ones, all involving men.

The victims are lured to an out-of-the-way hotel, teased into bondage games, robbed, and drained of their testosterone. Police have yet to find any leads in the case.


There was a great deal of grunting happening on the bed. The women were actively sucking him dry and it was becoming quite painful. He pulled at his bonds but they were too tight. The two brunettes had been sucking his cock for what felt like hours, and he’d cum more than ever before in his life.

The ball gag was thick and muffled him rather well, but he began to be afraid, truly afraid, when the silvery line of duct tape went over it, virtually silencing him.

He screamed when he felt the first bite into his left nut….


Dolly and Dilly walked, arm in arm, down the busy sidewalk. Their strawberry blonde hair glinted in the southern sun, and their doubled beauty drew many appreciative glances from passersby.

“I’m starting to feel hungry again,” said Dilly.

“I know, Dil, but it’s only been a few months. We have to be careful.”

They stopped in front of a newsstand, looking over the glossy cover pictures of celebs.

“Dil, look…” Dolly pointed at the US Update.

Link between victims hints at “Affair” website.

The picked up a copy of that, as well as the glossies, and headed to the restaurant. They ate quickly, and headed back to their hotel room. The view from the 18th floor was panoramic, but they weren’t looking at Dallas just then.  They lay, bellies down, side by side on the bed, reading about a series of grizzly murders in New York City, Boston, Portland, and Charleston. The east coast was abuzz with speculation.

They finished reading, and rubbed cheeks.

“Clue-less” They giggled together.

“C’mon, time to go find a date!” and Dolly slipped from the bed to retrieve their laptop.

She opened the page to the Affair site and they began their Dallas hunting.


“Look, man, you’re the one for the job. NO one would suspect you, for one thing.  Seriously, man, you’re not the type to run out and have an affair, yanno?”

Inwardly he rolled his eyes, gosh was he *that* fucking predictable? Wouldn’t Dave just shit a fucking brick if he knew? He wondered how many women he’d fucked “outside the ‘ring’,” anyway?

“Look, Dawg, you’re my best agent. The cover as a record producer gets you in everywhere, and the cache of being an ‘industry’ guy has fed you lots of information. Word on the wire is that the Affair Killer is headed west. We don’t need shit like that goin’ down here in LA…things are crazy enough without some psychopathic dong eating bitch arriving.”

Wasn’t that a thought to shrivel a guys balls? Who did that? Other than Hannible the Horrible. Man, he loathed that movie. And this bitch gave “eating cock” an entirely new meaning. He could barely suppress the shudder that ran through him.

He loved having a clever-mouthed lady swallow his cock. There was no better feeling than having a pair of ruby-slicked lips slipping down over his engorged head, sliding down the sides, and engulfing him. The thick warm wetness of her mouth surrounding his dick, the pull and suck as her mouth retreated, the tease of cool air wrapping around where warm lips had been….

Geeze. He shifted, just a bit, in his chair. He was making himself hard thinking about Amylia. Her mouth was a fucking work of art…and he’d best focus on Dave and stop thinking about her warm, red lips…

“….so I think YOU are the one for the job.”

Dave sat and looked at him. Dawg blinked. Obviously he’d missed something of importance.  He scrolled back to what his boss had said, but all that came to him was a memory of coquette lips wrapped around his shaft…and down that road lay danger…

Dave was looking expectant, perhaps edged with impatience.


“Good, Dawg, good.” Then he laughed. This was Dave’s favorite joke. As if calling him a “good dawg” was a joke he’d never heard before.

He tried not to sigh audibly. He wondered what exactly he’d just gotten himself into.


His wife was getting pissed. He was out every other night for two weeks. Meeting chicks on The Date Site was one thing, but to be doing it for work? Too fucking bad about the collar-cam that recorded everyfuckin’ thing. And the mike in his watch. He could’ve scored nine times out of nine dates.

She leaned across the table, and brushed his hand with hers. Her rich auburn hair glowed in the candlelight.

“I hope you don’t think me too forward, touching you like this?”

“Hmmm, not at all.” he murmured. Oh, she was one fucking sexy babe. His cock warmed to the thought of burying himself between her full and luscious tits….he pulled his brain out of his dick with a superhuman effort. “Touch is one of the key ways we discover one another,” he added, his finger lightly caressing the pinky finger that draped into the cup of his hand.

She arched her back, sighing happily.

“You really are a forward-thinking man, Riff. With an unusual name. . .” her pregnant pause gave him time to talk about himself if he chose.

He doubted he’d ever met a more accommodating woman. She shifted, rose from her chair across the table, and came around to sit beside him.

The scent of her was, very nearly, intoxicating. Pure, raw lust raged through him. He had no idea what fucking perfume she was wearing but it smelled like warm, sweet pussy. . . his favorite scent of all.

She leaned her head against his shoulder, looking up at him with dewy eyes. Hers were perfect, soft tawny brown, and warm with her own open lust. Her perfect little hand lay now on his thigh.

“mmmm, strong. i do love a strong man, Riff….”

His hand lay atop hers, stopping her journey towards his crotch. His cock shouted at him that now was not a time for duty, but action! Fuck but he was fed up with this assignment! He was so busy dating that he’d hardly had time to fuck his wife, let alone a bit o’ honey on the side!

“Can we go somewhere?” she purred into his ear. “I have a sweet surprise for you, Riff.” Her voice was deeply husky, and fed teases to his groin. The view from here was fan-fucking-tastic, too. Full lush tits, pushed up and almost out of the sweater-dress she wore like a fucking second skin.

“What’s the hurry?” he asked, trying to put her off.

“I have a twin. She’s back at the hotel. And Riff? We’re both so hungry for a real man….if you think you can handle two of us…” And she pulled back, looking up at him with those guileless eyes.

And that triggered a warning down deep in his primal brain. Along with the explosive sexual energies generated in his testicles by the thought of banging two chicklets who looked like this, the sheer ferocity that glowed from her face when she said “Hungry” set off warning bells.

First and foremost, he was an Agent. His cock might disagree at the moment, but he knew his duty, and perhaps his life lay on the line here.

He looked down at her and signaled the code words.

“Okay, let’s go…”


Later he was never sure how he’d managed to slip the noose on his wrist, other than sure, prime skill. He was an operator of the highest order, after all.  Sirens blared, and two angry redheads screamed and fought like hellcats as the Feds cuffed them, and led them out. They were a sight to behold that pair, naked tits bouncing, and feral teeth bared.

His cock throbbed dully in his boxers. He wondered if he’d get hazard pay for almost losing his boner. Doubted it, fucking economic downturn.

Dave slapped him on the shoulder and steered him away from the lights. “Cover’s pretty blown inter-agency, Dawg, but hey, you’ll have a rep as the guy who stopped those two cunts from gobbling down another cock.”

oh. wasn’t that going to look great on his resume?