Sun Sun Restaurant
A nocturnal visit of Sin Street
I am Trevor, your best friend. Who could be a better guide through this jungle than a good cop?
If you don’t remember me, read about my life with Claire, my darling wife here. I almost lost her through an act of stupidity. More on that later.
We are all good cops now, although some are more competent than others. Erin gave everyone a chance at a fresh start, sweeping Sin Street clean of its worst ghouls and criminals.
But they always return because that is the nature of crime and criminals.
Simon, The Enforcer, single-mindedly focused on holding Sin Street together using a moral compass few would say pointed anywhere close to North.
I never liked him, but I’ll confess the impossible task was done as well as anyone could. He harvested the criminals for cash, funding our pitiful police presence. As dysfunctional as we were, at least those streets you see from a drone pass below were relatively safe for everyone during the day.
In Sin Street, at night, safety is an abandoned concept.
And now, our bucket of crabs starts anew. All manner of vile creatures elbow one another to rise to the top of the bucket and, hopefully, tip over the rim edge. There is a general belief among all that the grass is greener on the other side, and so the bucket of crabs analogy applies eternally.
That’s where I will wait… on the floor below the bucket rim. You can be sure… or at least I am wholly convinced, that the biggest, most vigorous, and most vicious crab that crawls over the rim will be a nasty fucker.
I am a catcher of crabs, and these artworks illustrate my stomping ground.
I love Sin Street’s myriad alleyways, crammed with life, street vendors, and even petty criminals, selling dodgy watches, weed by ten-dollar bags, and hookers by the hour.
The Golden Sun Chinese restaurant is located in the north of Sin Street. These days, the infamous chefs frequently check the fish tanks from which they harvest your meal because you never know when an arm or a leg might be feeding what is about to become dinner.
As with most businesses in Sin Street, Golden Sun pays its dues. The Enforcer was the collector of those shabby, thick wads, but now he is vanquished, and I have no idea who is benefiting.
Nature abhors a vacuum, so Mayor Diana Von Rigg had better move quickly before the next crab heaves over the rim with sharp pincers. It doesn’t take long for fear to grip our Sin Street. Consider Red October, Franky Orbin, and the Bone Collector. Just a few rumors, whispered in the darkness, exchanged in bars or brothels, and boom, everyone scurries for cover.
This part of Sin Street is a paradise for gamblers, prostitutes, pimps and drunkards. The locals are rarely a problem, but we tend to attract so many outsiders it is hard to know who comes to pay and fuck and who comes to fuck everything up.
Diana Von Rigg is a calming influence, drawing those who exist in a maze of sexual taboos, providing them assistance and safety at her Underground Club, the entrance to Limbo.
I leave the johns, hookers, and pimps to the guys in uniform while I… well, I already told you what I do.
I’m joining the series for the next few weeks because Rex is on the prowl, and my mind is not yet made up about him.
This is where all the lost spirits come to destroy what is left of their reason. Sin Street is a nexus for all worlds. Limbo, the stalkers, watchers, and ghouls, together we all break bread and commune with the real, you, me, and those who are neither or both.
Is Sin Street a noir horror, or just a horrible place that must exist to drain the swamps outside our city boundaries?
I don’t know. I’m not even sure why I stay. One minute, I have a happy wife, Claire; the next, I’m gifting her because my life has become so tragic that I can’t even feed us. I almost became a fucking cuckold on the same night I wanted Claire to leave me for a better man.
Diana Von Rigg and Claire saved me that night.
At night, Sin Street only looks deserted to visitors who don't know where to knock. Underground and over, inside and out, something or someone always lurks nearby. You are never sure who, what, or why they are there, but if they don’t like you, you're in severe danger unless or because your pocket is full of cash.
My advice - Stay the fuck away!
The Sun Sun, where we used to meet and talk about our writings and drawings. The creators of Sin Street have a place where nobody can go. It is devoid of censors, saturated with divine decadence, and so free of inhibition and control that the restaurant has been known to move when too many people visit, popping up elsewhere, maintaining anonymity for those who draw and write.
Not everything about Sin Street is vile. Some come here for fun, especially those with an itch to scratch. In particular, cuckolds, swingers, bi-sexuals, and especially guys desperate to suck cock on the down low find their peace and satisfaction here.
Before Claire, Handjob Hannah took care of my needs. I was often hanging around late at night close to her bus stop, enjoying her last handjob of the day.
That woman could milk a cock in under a minute with rough calluses on her finger joints that clamped beautifully on a guy’s cock, sliding up and down my urethra like a machine sucking my prostate dry.
She sucked my cock one time just before I met Claire. When Hannah’s lips sealed around my swollen cock head, I felt her tongue clean off my salty load before flicking my banjo string.
She clenched tightly and drove her lips hard up and down my shaft, deep-throating effortlessly, using her gag response to crush my cock until I soaked her tonsils with my salty ropes of hot seed.
I miss those days, but now, I am happily married, and Claire is an angelic wife, demonic in bed.
I’m joining the series for the next few weeks because Rex is on the prowl, and my mind is not yet made up about him.
I love originality and these artworks exceed all expectations - thank you and bravo partner
Your partnership just gets better and better. I love the addition of video Sissi and your artwork becomes ever more sublime. Kate, your words create a world with infinite possibilities. Sin Stret could run and run, growing in increasing directions, so far unseen. I fear for the cop hero of your story. How long will it be before corruption creeps back into his police force and how will he deal with it?