The iPhone 3GS Associated Press

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WHEN it comes to sex, no one likes to be told they’re no good. But hearing this soul-destroying news from a mechanical device can be even more crushing.

Based purely on duration, power and how much noise you make when you orgasm, new iPhone application ­Passion claims to tell you how good you are in bed.

But be warned: this simple, sexy £3 download could lead to the loudest, longest and most limber night of your life.

As a happy young newlywed, I was confident my ­husband and I would score pretty high on the chart, which pegs you between one and 10.

The directions told me I could lay it on the bedside ­table – even though attaching it with a sports band or putting it in your pocket was advised – because I had ­chosen not to tell my other half what I was doing.

I pressed start and up sprung the words: “You may start having sex.” It felt like a teacher telling me I could ­begin my exam.

I stifled my giggles, ­attempted to ignore the silent adjudicator in the room and tried to enjoy myself.

Half an hour later I rolled over, happy and content and reached for the phone. And was horrified.

A measly 2.9 with the ­comment “kind of sloppy” were sprawled across my screen. It even had a colourful graph to show me where I had gone wrong.

Duration was perfect, but my orgasm was below bad and activity non-existent.

From where I was lying, it was pretty damn good.

Then I told my husband what I was doing. It heightened his determination.

The next night I dutifully strapped on my iPhone in my armband, convinced the low score was due to it sitting on the bedside table and ­knowing I had to be more ­vocal.

The iPhone had ­become our enemy, our competitor, and the 45 minutes that followed left us hoarse and exhausted.

But as we collapsed on the bed, like Passion ­junkies we dived for the phone.

It was better but by no means good – 6.9, “better than most”. Again duration was perfect, even orgasm was mid-range but once more activity was bad.

The next couple of days brought out a nasty competitive streak, usually reserved for Monopoly. We tried to better our score, but the more we tried, the less we enjoyed it.

God help women if men take heed of this application and believe banging away like a hammer drill for 45 minutes while screaming like a banshee constitutes a good lover.

Tender and gentle won’t win you any points. The only way I could up my activity while wearing the armband was if I pretended I was riding a mechanical bull. And putting the phone in my back pocket makes the act near-on impossible.

But I can’t pretend I didn’t eventually get the desired 9.1 score.

It’s just a shame it was ­during a lengthy fit of road rage in the midst of rush-hour traffic.