To the untrained eye, it might appear we are witnessing an outbreak of unprecedented sexual liberation in the homes of the rich and famous.
Last week, I read with goggle eyes the admission by TV presenter Amanda Holden that there's always a three-way love-in in her bed. Then came the news that Barack Obama and his wife make room in their marriage for a third party, too.
Closer inspection reveals this is not some kind of saucy re-tread of Abigail's Party, but actually evidence of technology reaching into the most intimate corners of our lives: for they are all talking about their BlackBerry handheld computers.
Slave to technology: Jenni's BlackBerry must be by her bedside to recharge, give her messages and wake her up
Now, there are many people who would traduce such miraculous machines, and offer dire warnings that they could spell the end to human interaction, not to mention putting marriages at risk, especially when they are taken to bed at night and pored over like some precious newborn babe.
But, quite honestly, my immediate reaction was: 'Doesn't everybody do it?'
Where else would you keep your precious electronic pet which needs to be nurtured throughout the night?
That's why my BlackBerry sits by my bed every night slurping in the electricity, to be sure of giving me perfect service the next day. And just like a baby, its every squeak must be attended to.
It might be the little alert it sounds when you get a text message, or a call from the son in Australia who desperately needs funds transferring from one bank account to another.
Or it could be the other son who's spending a year in France and might be in trouble, needing maternal assistance right now!
It could be someone asking you, even at a late hour, to do some work. Or it might just be the alarm going off in the morning to wake you. It serves so many purposes.
Him indoors thinks my passion for this little gadget verges on lunacy. I think he's jealous, as I tend to communicate with it rather more than I do with him.
His face takes on a stony demeanour when I sneak a peek after the little red light has warned me I have an email during dinner. But, frankly, he only has himself to blame.
I was once a technological Luddite, going along with the then editor of Newsnight in the late Eighties who became so frustrated with the new computers that had been installed in the office, he tore out all the plugs and re-introduced the typewriter.
Gadget fan: Jenni admits she feels lost without her BlackBerry
But my partner, David, insisted. He's an electronics engineer and computer genius. It was ridiculous to resist the march of technology, he warned, then bought me my first laptop. And, slowly, I was seduced.
In the years that followed, into my possession came not one but two computers, then a mobile and then, oh heaven, the Blackberry.
It's instant communication, 24 hours a day, seven days a week, doing exactly what we women like doing best, chatting to our friends.
All of which explains why the worst thing that's happened in my recent history was losing this miracle gadget.
You see, it contains all the information I need to negotiate my life. Contacts, notes and the codes for picking up train tickets. And that's how I lost it at a station.
I was in such a kerfuffle that I must have left it on the ticket machine. I'd planned to edit an article on it while travelling (so useful!). When I got on the train, I fumbled in my bag and my heart could not have sunk further when I couldn't find it.
I borrowed someone else's BlackBerry to call David, sobbing with despair. 'Ah,' he said, with more glee than I felt was decent, 'I gather you've lost your phone'.
It turned out someone wonderful and honest had found it, called 'home' in the contacts list to inform us, and taken it to lost property. That man restored my faith in human nature, but how I missed my little friend for the whole week it was away.
I know I'm not alone in this obsession. Nor do I deny that tinkering with a BlackBerry incessantly in the bedroom may be a barrier to communication - of all kinds - with the person to whom you're close enough to have a real conversation.
I have, I confess, been irritated by a friend whose new boyfriend texted and called her repeatedly during an all-girl dinner of ours. She didn't ignore him, even though we hinted she should. But then, reader, she married him.
And now they do talk, face-to-face, thanks to the BlackBerry. So there.
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