Daddy Fucked My Ass At The Rooftop Bar

The rooftop bar overlooked the entire city, skyscrapers glittering against the night sky. My father Arthur knew the head bartender, and we had a reserved corner table with velvet seating. Craft cocktails, ambient lighting, the buzz of the city below. He ordered an old fashioned. I ordered something pink. We talked for hours, his knee pressing against mine under the table. The skyline was beautiful. But I couldnt stop looking at him.