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

How To Eat Me Out

Labelled diagram of the vulva, showing the clitoris, outer and inner labia, urethra, vaginal opening, perineum and anus.

When I first start to see someone on a sexy and/or romantic basis, I usually find a way to drop into the conversation that I don’t like to be eaten out. It’s not a lie, as such; if you were to graph my enjoyment when receiving cunnilingus, you’d find that, statistically speaking, I don’t like to be eaten out, because most people don’t know quite how to eat me out.

But there are outliers in most data sets, and my cunnilingus experiences are no exception. I tell people I don’t like to be eaten out all that much because the amount of effort I expend on explaining my preferences doesn’t usually yield worthwhile results. In other words, some people are bad listeners in bed.

But the people who are good listeners do such a bang-up job, regardless of their experience (or lack thereof), that I feel like I should give them a chance. I wanted to write something about how I do like to be eaten out, so that I have a list of tips to hand when somebody is kind enough to ask, and to illustrate to my fellow vulva-havers that everybody has preferences and it’s okay to be bossy about them. You could use this article as a jumping-off point in considering your own tastes, or as a means to communicate with a partner about things they could try doing differently or aspects of cunnilingus the two (or more) of you haven’t yet considered.

So, step one: do not suck on my clit.

I know some people love this. And I might love it too, except that I haven’t allowed anyone to try it on me since one ill-fated hookup wherein my partner made me feel like I’d trapped my bits in a vacuum cleaner. So now, to avoid spooking me, if you must suck on my clit, do it so delicately I don’t notice – more suction-y kisses, and less trying to slurp jelly from a plate.

(We often tell people, especially those with penises, that the clitoris is biologically homologous (basically, very similar) to the penis. And that’s true, and I understand we’re trying to demystify the clit and remind people that we’re not all that dissimilar, regardless of the arrangement of our bits. But people with penises don’t always seem to take into account that the nerve endings on a clit are super densely packed in there and super duper sensitive, so sucking on it like you’re trying to extract snake venom is painful. You could, at the very least, ask, “Do you like having this sucked on?” in a sexy, breathy voice, or start gentle and see how your partner responds. Please, I implore you, do not suck it like you would a helium balloon for your excellent Alvin And The Chipmunks impressions.)

Step two: actually, calm down about my clit altogether.

Like, sure, acknowledge its presence. Say hello with your tongue. But spend the majority of your time, at least at first, kissing and licking my thighs, labia majora and mons pubis. (You can easily find diagrams of where these bits are by searching for “vulva diagram”.) Toothlessly (very toothlessly!) close your mouth around my clit with the clitoral hood still shielding it. It’s a good idea to ask before you move my clitoral hood, because I might not be ready for intense, direct clitoral stimulation just yet. Sometimes I’ll even put a hand on my own mons pubis and tug upwards, exposing my clitoris a little for you, when I’m feeling eager to have it licked. Pay attention.

Step three: please drool. And slobber. And salivate.

Dry tongues are not my favourite. They might be yours, and that’s cool, but certain kinds of friction give me such Bad Autism™ that I feel as though I might retch. (And retching is, in my world, reserved for a certain kind of blowjob, not for receiving cunnilingus.) Get your lips and tongue saturated with moisture any way you know how and keep it that way. I always have flavoured lube somewhere, so if you need some to maintain the layer of wetness that separates my genitals from sensory hell, feel free to ask. Also, if you make eye contact with me and lick your lips to indicate you’re enjoying having your face in my cunt, I will melt. Just so you know.

Step four: consider using toys.

You might feel that using toys constitutes “giving up” or indicates that you’re not doing a thorough enough job. However, I find that the opposite is true: using toys means you’re prepared to do a really thorough job, and you’re prepared to do it well. Sticking something steel and curved into my cunt will stimulate my A-spot, which allows you to focus almost entirely on eating me out. Slipping a well-lubed plug into my butt means you can gently lick, kiss and massage my vulvovaginal bits… and then surprise me by wiggling the plug. Or tapping its base. Or making it vibrate.

Eating with cutlery doesn’t mean you’ve given up on eating; it means you’ve found a more straightforward and enjoyable way to do it. Similarly, eating me out with toys in the mix doesn’t mean you’ve given up on eating me out. And I promise you, if you pay attention and do as your partner asks, no toys will fully distract from the human, wet, messy, delightful process of you eating them out. The toys might enhance it, but their thoughts won’t drift from the sensation of your mouth on their bits. I guarantee it.

Smut Saturdays #12 – Girls Are Just Different

Stock image of a light purple orchid which looks vaguely similar to a vulva in sharp focus, with a blurry greenish background

I should write more about fucking girls. I should also write more about fucking cunts. (Not everyone with a cunt is a girl; not every girl has a cunt.) And at the moment, I have been thinking a lot about fucking girls who have cunts (usually, these are cis girls) and how much I enjoy it.
If I had to choose one gender, or one genital configuration, to fuck for the rest of my life, I sincerely don’t know if I could do it. (Being autistic and indecisive, I’d probably become overwhelmed, cry a bit and never fuck anybody again.) I am nigh-on obsessed with my Daddy’s cock, and foreskin, and the taste of cum; but I’m equally fond of slick, swollen cunts, tits bouncing in the same rhythm as whichever dildo I’m wielding, soft inner thighs I can bite and pinch…
The thing is, it’s easier to write about fucking dudes. I’ve done more of it, and I have a sort of script that I’m happy to stick to: rough making out, a bit of dick sucking, maybe getting choked a little bit, and then PIV til I come and so does he. Sometimes I deviate from this, but not often. I have a lot of data on how being penetrated by a cock feels, on how the weight of an erection in my hand makes me sigh with impatient wanting, on how I respond to getting pounded by someone who’s capable of pinning me to the bed one-handed.
I’ve fucked girls before, including girls with cunts and girls without ‘em, but not nearly as frequently. This is largely due to my own fear of “doing it wrong” and my complicated relationship to topping clashing with my intense desire to beat the life out of consenting women. I rarely, if ever, want to bottom to girls (partly because the kinds of girls I’m attracted to are usually natural bottoms/subs anyhow), and I’m still having to work hard on topping anybody without getting the nervous giggles and/or the irrepressible urge to curl up and sob. Even disregarding that, it’s a lot harder, statistically speaking, to find girls who want to play with my vagina than it is to find boys who want the same thing. My nervousness around topping and my nervousness around writing things I’m not convinced are well-researched enough have created a relative dearth of non-cock-centric content on my blog, which in turn has created a sense of guilt and queer Impostor Syndrome in me that I cannot shake.
All of this is to say that today, I will write in detail about fucking girls.
I just love cunts. (I love girl dicks too, but that’s a discussion for another day.) I love the sensation of a hardened clit under my tongue and the process of turning a girl on so her labia majora puff up with arousal. I love slipping my hand into a girl’s pants and feeling slick, hot desire. I love the way that girls’ knees drift apart when they want you to put a finger in them. I love the word “cyprine” and I love licking it off my fingers. I love the give, the squish in a girl’s G-spot when it’s as swollen as her clit is, and I love pressing, massaging, fucking it with my fingers until I feel and hear her cum.
And that’s just the cunt!
I also love how soft girls are. It doesn’t matter how much they weigh or what their skincare routine is; they’re just indescribably soft in a way that boys never are. I love the way that girls kiss, their lips as hesitant as butterflies, their tongues as gentle as their hands. I love the way girls’ tits look when I tie their wrists above their heads, rounded and lifted, and I also love the way tits look when their owner is slouching on my bed, spilling down their torsos, as relaxed and warm as can be. I love the amount of lovebite real estate bigger tits provide and I love the extra pain I can cause by pinching smaller ones. I love touching, kissing, biting or squeezing every inch of a girl other than the square six or so that constitute her vulva, perineum and anus, sucking on the shelf of flesh at the top of her thigh until she’s all but thumping her mons pubis into my head with desperation. I love teasing the anus first, providing we’ve talked about that, and moving lube-soaked fingers up and down the perineum while keeping my eyes focused on my partner’s face. I love girls’ faces, their widening eyes and their trembling lips and the colour rising in their cheeks, the way they sometimes shyly cover them up with their hands when they’re close to coming (like I do when I’m bottoming) and the way their mouths stretch open when I’ve tied up their wrists and covering up just isn’t an option. And I love the way girls’ lips look stretched around a dildo, whether it’s strapped on to me or in my worn-out hand after fucking them with it, and I love the way that they look covered in my own cum, when they look up from between my legs and smile proudly at the sight of me recovering from an orgasm.
I love the fact that every girl I fuck is different, but they all have things in common. I love the fact that our genitals match so I know my way around the neighbourhood, but our experiences differ so I still have to stop and ask for directions now and again. I love that girls giggle at my stupid jokes even when I’m telling them from between their legs. I love the camaraderie of fucking someone whose gender is near to mine and the affirmation of it not being exactly the same. I love cuddling with girls and commiserating about periods and the patriarchy and feeling like best friends and beyond.
And I love writing smut about them, so I’ll endeavour to do that more often.