Britain has long been a saucy nation. We’re the proud inventors of Carry On films and bawdy catchphrases (nudge nudge, wink wink). We’ve laughed along with Victoria Wood asking to be beaten on the bottom with a Woman’s Weekly, giggled at euphemisms and generally found smut wherever we could find it (you only have to look at Shakespeare to trace our fondness for the saucy innuendo in all its glory). We talked of bonking and hanky-panky, of slap and tickle and funny business, of doing the horizontal tango and rumpy pumpy. In other words, we’ve never really taken sex very seriously.
But in
