The Devil Is In The Details: Fingering

Welcome back to my miniseries, The Devil Is In The Details! Today: fingering, and everything I love about it.


Y’all didn’t think I could write about everything violin has taught me about sex without being inspired to write about fingering, did you? Because, you know, I love being fingered. Truthfully, I would take a good fingering over a good dicking down nine times out of ten, because being fingered is one of my favourite things of all time.

My hands are small and my fingers are short, so I can’t reach my anterior fornix (sometimes known as the A-spot) by myself. As you can imagine, this is hugely frustrating, and leads to a lot of wanks wherein I either use toys or give up. Having somebody else, who can position their wrists at angles my cunt and I can only dream of, fingering me means that I can get my A-spot absolutely annihilated. Fingers are also just more subtle, more nuanced, more flexible than dicks or most toys, meaning that I can get my A-spot annihilated just like that and squirm against someone’s capable hand.

Oh, and I like to squirm. I like being fingered with such ferocity that I pull a pillow over my face to disguise my animalistic noises and weird, semi-pained facial expressions as the intensity of the sensation mounts. I like being held down by one hand or arm while the other works furiously to make me wail. I like the precision afforded by fingers, because that precision can be used aggressively to make me writhe and grind and even try to pull away. I like to be fingered in a way that makes me see stars. I even like to have my cunt torn, and to find traces of fresh blood in the cum I wipe away from my vulva once we’re done.

The hand is nuanced, though, which means that there are other kinds of fingering I like as well. I like the gentle, exploratory kind, where a thumb delicately circles my clit and one finger slides straight into my wet cunt. I like having my cunt torn, sure, but I also like having it slowly, lovingly stretched out, finger by finger, as I pull my legs further apart and my clitoral hood out of the way to help. I love the feeling of being slowly filled, of the gradual change in pressure as more fingers enter the mix.

Oh, and let’s not forget: I love fingering other people. I love sliding my fingers into other people’s cunts and tapping on all their favourite spots, like their body is a piano and their moans are the music I’m managing to elicit. I love pushing my finger delicately, oh so delicately, into a person’s arsehole, feeling it twitch around my fingers with knuckle-bending pressure, and exploring as carefully as I can. My fingers are sometimes too short to reach A-spots and prostates, but that doesn’t necessarily amount to being a problem: I can use my fingers to tease, to get just close enough to make you want more, to bring you to the edge of pleasure and hold you there. The feeling of tightness around my finger(s) and the feeling of power over another person act as two sides of the same dizzying coin, and I feel like a sex deity when I make other people beg for more.

Then there are, of course, more details on the periphery of fingering. There’s the mess, of course: getting fingered the way I like to be fingered usually leaves cunt juices all over my vulva and inner thighs, reminding me either of how much fun I’ve had, what a dirty little slut I am, or both. I love sucking my wetness off of other people’s fingers, tasting my own arousal (and judging how hydrated I am, because vaginas are magic). Like I mentioned in my erections post, I love finding the hard knot of someone else’s clit with my mouth, and I also love finding it with my thumb – and on top of that, I love the sponginess, the give in vaginal tissue as I start to stroke someone’s favourite spot. I love every noise that I draw out of everyone I finger, even if I can’t bring myself to like my own fingering noises. I love how sore my hand joints feel after properly finger-fucking somebody, like the sign of a job well done.

I love every element of fingering, and now I kind of need to add it to my to-do list.


If you love fingering as much as I do, or if you loved reading about me loving it, please consider supporting my work via Patreon or Ko-Fi

What Playing The Violin Has Taught Me About Sex

Morgans pasty white body alongside their pretty pink violin. You can see most of their boob, but not their nipple, because... artsiness?

So, if you read my blog post about the coronavirus pandemic, you’ll know that I’m not exactly coping well with the apparent end of the world. 

So I bought a violin.

I could dissect why I bought a violin. I played violin for about a year when I was ten, almost entirely because my mum told me that if I could stick with it and learn the skills it was meant to teach me – reading music, tuning an instrument, doing things even when they’re hard – we could see about getting me an electric guitar. Except I didn’t stick with it, and when my mum did get me an electric guitar five years later, I didn’t stick with that, either. Maybe I bought a violin in the midst of the pandemic because I wanted to right that wrong and prove I can stick with difficult things. Maybe I bought a violin because I wanted something that reminded me of my childhood which, while turbulent, did not feature coronavirus at all. Maybe I just bought it because it was shiny and pink and matched my phone case.

It doesn’t matter.

What matters is that, so far, I am sticking with it. And I’m learning some skills which I’ve realised I can apply to sex – skills I’m going to tell y’all about, in case you were on the fence about your own ridiculous violin purchase. 

The first of these skills is, of course, perseverance. Whether it’s the BPD or just who I am as a person, I’m extremely sensitive to the feeling that I’ve failed, and will usually avoid activities I’m not already good at for the sake of my sanity. Avoidance works well, as dysfunctional coping strategies go, but it means that I never practice the skill of taking on the information I’ve learned from “failing” and trying something different. Practising violin has meant a lot of wincing at notes I’ve played “wrong” (as much as you can ever go wrong when doing something artistic) but then readjusting my fingers and trying again. Similarly, in sex, it’s important to be able to take feedback on board, readjust your fingers and try again, preferably without crying. Playing violin has taught me that I might not be instantly good at everything, but that I’m capable of improving and that trying again is worth the effort.

Playing violin has also taught me to slow down when something isn’t going my way, rather than to panic. Taking one’s time is important during sex, even during quick, desperate fucks, because it’s the difference between putting a condom on correctly or having it split on you, or between bumping someone’s cervix with a dildo and not doing that, or between sustaining an injury and coming out of the fuck unscathed. 

On the topic of injuries: violin is teaching me the hard way to listen to my body. I’m very good at ignoring or muscling through alarming levels of pain, but I can’t do that with the violin, because in the long term (“long” here meaning “a few hours” – I’m still not good at conceptualising the future beyond that) I know it will bite me in the arse. See, I’m excited to be learning the violin, and that means that I have to stop when it hurts, so that I can play some more later that day. (And oh my God, does it hurt – it works muscles in my back I didn’t know existed, and leaves me clutching my wrist or shoulder and wincing if I overdo it.) Stopping activities when they start to hurt me is not something I’m well-versed in, but it’s important even for a masochist like me to be able to read their own body and react accordingly. (Or accordionly… because, you know, musical instruments… I’ll show myself out.)

Then there are the “hard” skills violin is teaching me. My joints fucking suck, but I’m pretty sure I can already feel my fingers getting stronger and my shoulders stabilise a little. I’m also constantly improving my hand-eye coordination whilst playing, as well as my ability to multitask and do different things with each of my hands. (I will leave it to you to imagine why this might be helpful during sex.) I can also read music again, after more than a decade of refusing to even look at a stave; reading music isn’t a useful skill for sex, but it’s a useful skill to brag about to the people with whom you’re having the sex. And bragging about my violin progress has boosted my confidence! People find confidence sexy, or so I’ve heard, and all the skills I’ve learnt from the violin have made me more confident in every department – including the sex department. Maybe that’s what I needed from the violin: confidence.

It doesn’t matter, because my violin is shiny and pink, and I can play Mary Had A Little Lamb on it now.


Want to help me buy accessories for my ridiculous violin? Please consider supporting my work via Patreon or Ko-Fi!

How To Seduce Yourself

Some red rose petals scattered across a white background, all romantic-like

I want to teach you guys how to seduce yourselves because the other day, I had the loveliest wank.

“Lovely” isn’t a word often used to describe wanks, because usually wanks are “sneaky” or “hot” or “dirty” or “rushed”. And all of those things can be enjoyable too, but this wank wasn’t primarily any of those. It was primarily lovely.

I’ve been coming off some medication that gave me hellishly bad restless legs, so I’ve been smoking weed to ease both the legs thing and the transition onto my new medication. This is relevant because Stoned Morgan, unlike Regular Morgan, actually likes being Morgan. They like being alive, they like experiencing sensory inputs and they like, well, wanking. The idea to have a stoned wank was not new to me, but as I was coming inside and shutting the back door after getting blazed, I resolved to have a nice wank. I took the last of the Nutella upstairs with me, with a teaspoon, and I took plenty of time making sure the toys I wanted were within arms’ reach and my trousers were not within leg-tangling reach. I played music. It was lovely.

How can you replicate this sort of loveliness in your own wanks? Well, it’s easy! You need to learn how to seduce yourself. Grabbing aftercare Nutella and taking my trousers off might not sound like seduction, but allow me to explain myself in the following four handy tips!

1. Take your time.

I love a quick, get-the-job-done wank as much as anybody, but sometimes the art of seduction requires a little extra time. There’s something uniquely peaceful about the moments you spend delicately exploring your labia before you touch your clit, or fluttering your fingertips along your shaft before you grab it. Don’t make it uncomfortable, though – if you’re just lying there, bored, thinking, “Why did Morgan tell me to wank in slow motion?” then by all means, speed things up! This is about your enjoyment, so take as much or as little time as you need.

2. Tailor your environment.

I’m not a porn person (largely because I cannot afford it, and refuse to steal from sex workers), but wanking in silence feels weird and uncomfortable – so, before my recent self-seduction, I slapped some tunes on via Spotify on my phone. You don’t need a special playlist of smooth jazz, or even anything overtly sexy; you just need to be relaxed, and happy to be in the space you’re in. For some people, this means pink mood lighting, and for others, it means sweeping the dirty laundry off the bed so you can lie down. However it looks for you, make sure you take the time to do it – it really does make a difference.

3. Take care of yourself afterwards.

Not only will performing self-aftercare teach your brain, over time, that wanking is an extra-nice hobby to have because it leads to chocolate and snuggles afterwards, but it’ll also put you in the right frame of mind for your lovely-wank endeavours. Bringing a jar of Nutella into bed with me was essentially me saying to myself, “I am a person who deserves nice things,” which made it all the easier to relax into the pleasant sensation of having my clit hammered by a Doxy wand – after all, I deserved it!

4. Make noises.

This one isn’t always possible for people who live with others, but when it is, fucking go for it! Make loud noises, make weird noises, make noises that make you think of that one boyfriend who told you that you sounded like a dying baby seal – just open up your throat and see what noises fall out. There are two reasons for this: 1. Your breathing will be different, because of science things, and it’ll help you to have better orgasms, and 2. Your brain will hear you go [sex noise], think, “Oh! A sex-related sensory input! It’s sex time!” and increase your physiological arousal some more. Plus, it’ll make you less self-conscious about your noises if you have partnered sex – but this isn’t about partnered sex! This is about how to seduce yourself, because you’re worth it.


In the end, during that really nice wank, I had two or three orgasms (one of them was a borderline one, and I don’t care whether it was a “real” orgasm or not because it felt fucking incredible either way). I also had a really good nap afterwards, and I woke up glowing, not just because of the brain chemicals you get from wanking, but also because I had spent half an hour or so before my nap saying to myself, repeatedly, through my actions, that I deserved to feel good. I couldn’t not-share some of my secrets with y’all, given how crazy times are, and I hope you take them and use them for good. And if you have any other tips on how to seduce yourself, I’m all ears! (There’s only so much money I can spend on Nutella.)


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