My ex would s******* harrass me every day, if that is the word. Force me to show him my body, show him myself m***********, pleasure him since we were long-distance. Whenever I said no, it would be begging all night until I gave in. So I stopped saying no in fear of him leaving me, embarrassing me, sending the photos out. But now, a year after him, I still imagine what it would be like if we did have s**. I imagine it when I’m alone, about how he’d topple over me, guide me through it with a soft voice as he deflowered me. How his rough hands would grab me and pull me hair like how he would describe to me. How he said he wanted me to be choking to the point I nearly threw up. How he wanted his hand on my stomach as he plowed. I pray every day that I never see him again, but I pray that the sin of my desires is attained first.