Daddy Fucked My Ass At The Drive-In Movie

The drive-in was showing a double feature, the screen glowing in the warm summer night. My father Arthur had the convertible, and we parked in the back row with a blanket and a cooler. The speakers crackled. The film played. But I couldnt tell you the plot. His arm slid around my shoulder, his fingers tracing patterns on my neck. By the time the second feature started, we had created our own show.