10 months ago
South African journalist and television presenter Kuli Roberts. Photo: Gallo Images/The times/Daniel Born  ~ 

THUS shouted my man at me from across the room: “Your toy won’t make you vibrate, it won’t have my body for you to grasp!”

Woah, what?

“Will your toy be able to turn you on in the middle of the day with pictures of this tight body?

What about voice-notes telling you exactly what I plan to do to you – and what you should be wearing?

“Does your vibrator send you voice-notes? Stop filling my house with vibrators, they’re no longer going to be a feature in my home,” he ranted, as I admired how his loose draw-string pants perfectly hugged the firm backside on his toned body.

“The fact that you use a device to sexually assault yourself when I’m out of town disturbs me. And I’m tired of your vibrators in our bathroom. Hide them from me and the kids.

“What would I answer if they asked me why Mum has a giant gold penis?

“Who buys gold vibrators?” he continued, pacing as the sweat beads trickled down his chest toward his groin.

I watched him in silence, thinking how fine he was.

Damn – the madder he got the sexier he became!

Why does he have to be so stressful when he knows he travels a lot and I must have the honey.

You’d think vibrators were men and had heartbeats, the way he carried on!

He should be grateful I’m loyal and not cheating. But he wants to compete with plastic!

Why would he compete with silicone products that keep it up 24/7? A sex toy never leaves, even to go on fictional business trips.

Your vibrator will never impregnate your friends.

Nor will it ever have erection issues or need pills to enhance performance.

Unlike your men, your vibrator will never talk back or insist on exposing you to large bellies.

He looked back at me demanding to know if I’d discard my gold collection and save him from emasculation.

I remember the time he walked in on Gold action – he looked defeated and lost, an expression I had never seen on his handsome face.

As if I had chosen a vibrator with a heartbeat, and cheated on him.

So, I chose him – he’s a good dad and lover.

But I said I’d keep my vibrators.

Expecting a different response, he ranted for a while, then was silent, as his trousers slipped to the floor.

Hours later, on his latest fictitious trip, he found vibrators in his car – with a note informing him if he didn’t leave his whore, my replacement batch of vibrators would be at body heat, with rapid pulses. 

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