My wife is not interested in wearing rubber or vinyl or, indeed, in anything but the plainest and simplest fashions. Her reasons – to me – are that she hasn’t got the figure, the looks, the time, the inclination or the money and at least she is not like some women who demand a monthly clothing allowance. She is not a frigid person, far from it, and has a very happy lovable disposition (for which I married her) but doesn’t like clothes. So I have tried giving her things at birthdays and Christmas – a long chill-on rubber kaftan, a rather exotic black rubber boudoir outfit – and if I can get her in the right mood and if I make a special effort she will put them on for me. But it is all so lack-lustre that it ends with my being put right off rather than right on. So is there a rubber aphrodisiac, Mr. Sutcliffe, that you sell or something that might inspire same semblance of excitement, eroticism, rubberism and what all, or do I just decline into black despair? Continue reading “Aphrodisiac” →