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Oh man, sometimes I wish I was back in high school. College is exciting and everything, don’t get me wrong, but there is something to be said for a blossoming sexuality and raging hormones.

But just as I begin to yearn for my pre-MIT years, I remember all the horrible finger-banging I experienced back then.

If your formative years were anything like mine, surely you heard all about some girl getting the crap finger-banged out of her — with three fingers, no less. In typical high-schooler fashion, we all gossiped and slut-shamed her because, of course, letting a guy touch her between the legs makes her a slut. I wonder what my 14-year-old self would think of the present-day me...

Obviously, beneath all the judgment lay an itching curiosity. While I knew all about STDs and birth control, I could not wrap my mind around this fingers-in-the-cooter business. I mean, three fingers seemed like an awful lot — I could barely manage a tampon in there! But I was convinced that all boys that been born with this finger-banging gene and that, as soon as my panties came off, a boy would know how the hell to work it.

As with most of my dreams, reality turned out to be a huge disappointment.

The first finger to ever penetrate my nether cavity belonged to this kid I met at a rock show, a drummer. Back then, I thought that musicians, diddling and banging stuff for fun, would be good lays. Anyway, one night found my drummer boy and me at a party by the beach, and, as is the case with any party, there was heavy alcohol consumption. Which lead to me grabbing his hand and walking a few yards, where he went in for the kill. Now, I knew this would be slightly uncomfortable, but holy fuck! This guy was ramming his fingers in my crotch like he lost his car keys in my uterus! Even in my drunken haze, I could feel the sharp pain of his fist hitting my pubic bone, and I guess my yelps sounded more like moans because he took them as encouragement and kept going. I pushed his hand away, got up, and ran back into the party to grab my friend and go home.

The next morning, I woke up with a sore cooch and a broken spirit. All this anticipation had built up inside me and the experience was a total dud! Now that my theory of the Finger-Banging Gene had been disproven, I refused to let guys try it for years. But after getting with a guy who had the Midas touch, everything changed. I finally opened my heart to having my vagina probed with fingers and realized that — call Captain Obvious — finger-banging was not all itself bad. I had simply experienced finger-banging of the bad kind. That experience encouraged me to give it a shot with other guys, and even though it’s totally a mixed bag and sometimes it still sucks a bit, at least I learned what works and what doesn’t.

So, guys, what exactly is wrong with your finger-banging? The main complaint, after surveying my girlfriends, is that guys tend to be too rough too fast. Before you dip your fingers in the honey pot, she needs to be aroused and lubed up. Don’t get straight to business; a little seduction goes a long way. To get a girl hot once you have your hands down her pants, go for the clitoris. It has the highest concentration of nerve endings on the female body, which means it is pretty much the straightest path to arousal. If you can’t find it, your girl certainly knows where it is, so don’t be ashamed to ask her!

As far as the actual finger-banging goes, it’s all about doing it with flair. Sure, in-and-out could get the job done, but this is about doing the job right, so come up with (or Google) more interesting moves. Be patient with your girl, too — we’re not all built the same way, and the moves that worked on the previous girl might not work on the next one. If you feel that you’re not doing it right, ask for feedback. Most of the girls I talked to said they would happily help a chap as long as he doesn’t cause any physical discomfort to their lady-bits. So boys, trim and file those nails and get workin’.

M. is a senior in Course 10. She can be contacted at undress@tech.mit.edu.