The recent decision by the Mills and Boon publishing house to move into sex education has been slammed as irresponsible by education experts for encouraging impossible romances, quivering bosoms and a penchant for exhilarating sex with topless manual labourers, whose skin glistens in the morning sun like fresh dew on a rosebud.
But Mills and Boon, better known for the world of budget romance, is insisting it will not compromise its distinctive editorial style for this new venture. ‘We’ll be using the same tone and language we always have, confirmed rugged spokesman Jake Goodheart, wiping a bead of perspiration from his chiseled jaw as he dismounted his stallion. ‘We’re not about to change a formula that has made us untold millions over the years. And I want to take you in my arms and kiss you until the world stops turning – and I don’t care what your father thinks about it.’
Unfortunately, early reviews are showing that far from being informative, the works are only confusing their audience. ‘My mum told me that when a man and a woman love each other very much, they have a special cuddle and make a baby,’ explained the young son of the Observer’s Science Editor. ‘So why is “the handsome gardener” putting his “turgid manhood” into the lady of the manor’s “delicate flower”. Is it some kind of trowel?’
The company’s spokesman remained adamant that Mills and Boon were best placed to educate the next generation about the blissful rapture of ecstatic physical union. ‘Everyone knows that Mills and Boon have long been the unofficial sextbooks for horny adolescents. And Moroccan princesses determined to escape the tyranny of an arranged marriage to feel bodily fulfilment like they’ve never known before with a humble plumber,’ insisted Goodheart, as he adjusted the rising mound of passion in his britches.
‘Anyway, it can’t be worse than last year when we tried to publish a sex manual in the style of ‘Lord of the Rings’ – we’re still getting complaints from people scarred by the thought of the hero ‘sinking his mighty dagger into her bubbling love pool.’ And with hindsight, writing a sex manual for men who like to dress as Hobbits was always a daft proposition. Those losers are far more likely to caress their own steely length until they spill their love juice in front of the Xbox.’