Daddy Fucked My Ass At The Poker Night

The penthouse game room smelled of cigars and whiskey. The stakes were five figures per hand. Every man at the table was trying to impress my father Arthur. But his attention never left me. I sat beside him, watching him bluff and dominate like always. When the other players cashed out and the door clicked shut, he taught me a different kind of game. The only chips were the ones I left on the felt.