Gossip & ‘Gasms: “O” Yes, She Did: The Orgasm Education You Never Got—But Always Deserved

Welcome to Gossip & ‘Gasms, the sex column where we talk about it all—the good, the bad, and the mind-blowingly orgasmic. I’m Ashley Cobb, your resident sexpert, storyteller, and homegirl who will overshare so you don’t have to. Think of this as your group chat’s spicy cousin—the one who keeps it real, spills the juiciest stories (including my own ), and always drops some game along the way.

We’re diving into sex, love, and pleasure from a Black woman’s perspective—unfiltered, unapologetic, and full of ‘aha!’ (and ohhh yes!) moments. Expect a mix of personal confessions, dating chaos, and pleasure-centered wisdom—all served with a side of real talk and receipts. Whether you’re here for the tea, the tips, or just to reassure yourself that you’re not the only one with a wild story, Gossip & ‘Gasms is your go-to spot. So get comfy—because things are about to get real juicy.

I remember the first time I had an orgasm and actually knew it was an orgasm.

I was in my mid twenties, somewhere between broke young adult and blossoming Black womanhood, armed with a $19 bullet vibrator from a sketchy sex shop near my house and a playlist full of 90s R&B. I wasn’t new to sex, but I was new to pleasure. Real, whole-body, “wait…what the hell just happened?” kind of pleasure.

That orgasm? Clitoral. Simple. Sweet. Reliable. And it changed the game.

No one had told me the clitoris had over 8,000 nerve endings or that it wasn’t just the “little button” I heard girls whispering about in college. Nope, I had to discover that through trial, error, and a lot of curious Googling. Which got me thinking—how many Black women are walking around like I was, with bodies full of possibilities they haven’t even tapped into yet?

Let me tell you something, there isn’t just one way to orgasm. That thing you feel when the clit gets some love? That’s just one chapter in your body’s erotic book. The truth is, there are orgasms hiding all throughout your body—some you’ve maybe heard of, some you probably thought were myths, and a few that’ll have you texting your homegirl like, “Bitch… did you know this was possible?”

Take the G-spot, for example. I used to think it was some fake news the patriarchy made up so men could poke around and feel important. But no—it’s real. The first time I had a G-spot orgasm, I didn’t even realize what was happening. It snuck up on me. It was different—deeper, messier, more intense. I cried. Not from pain. From release. Like something had unlocked inside me that I didn’t even know I was holding. Afterward, I just laid there like, “Wow… is this how the ancestors felt when they tasted freedom?”

Then there’s the vaginal orgasm. Now let’s be honest here—most of us aren’t having this one just from penetration, and that’s OK. In fact, most women don’t. But when it does happen? Whew. It feels like your whole womb is singing. It’s not sharp like a clitoral orgasm, but more like a hum that spreads out from your center. I’ve only had one that I can confidently say was vaginal-only, and let me tell you… I wanted to send that man a fruit basket and a thank-you note.

And I can’t leave out the ones nobody talks about in church or group chat: anal, nipple, and sleep orgasms. Yes—your ass, your boobs, and even your subconscious are in on this pleasure party. I once had a nipple orgasm in the middle of a lazy Sunday makeout session—didn’t even make it to the pants, but baby, my nipples clocked in, showed out, and had me laid out like communion service.

What blew my mind the most, though, was learning about blended orgasms. That’s when two (or more!) types of stimulation are happening at once—clitoral and G-spot, for example—and they join forces like Destiny’s Child in their prime. It’s powerful. It’s intense. It’s Beyoncé, Kelly, and Michelle all harmonizing on your vulva. If you haven’t had one yet, don’t worry. Your body is capable. It just needs the right rhythm, the right intention, and a little lube.

Let’s not forget multiple orgasms—that back-to-back-to-back experience where your body doesn’t need recovery time. Just… keep going. I had one of these once and felt like I needed to call someone. Not for help—just to witness it.

And yes, squirting is real. It’s not pee (despite what the Internet says), and it doesn’t happen to everyone. But when it does, it’s like your G-spot said, “Let me show you what I really do.” The first time I squirted, I thought my body had betrayed me. Then I realized… oh no, baby. My body had just graduated.

Oh—and coregasms? The kind you can get during a workout? Imagine hitting a leg raise and suddenly climaxing without anyone even touching you. I’ve never had one myself—mostly because I avoid the gym like my ex’s calls—but apparently, coregasms are a thing. Unexpected. Divine. Slightly confusing. And allegedly worth every squat I refuse to do.

Here’s what I know now that I wish I knew back when I was faking orgasms and settling for mediocre head: your body is a wonderland, yes—but it’s also a damn museum. There’s art in every corner, history in every nerve ending, and beauty in every wet, wild, and wobbly moment.

We weren’t taught this in health class. Our aunties didn’t pass it down like sweet potato pie recipes. But we’re unlearning the shame, reclaiming our pleasure, and rewriting the narrative—one orgasm at a time.

So here’s your homework, sis: Explore. Touch. Play. Be curious. Don’t wait for someone else to unlock what’s already yours. Your pleasure is not a side dish—it’s the main course. And you deserve to feast.

Period.