John Walker propped his feet up on his desk and leaned back. John glanced at the clock on the wall. His last appointment was now fifteen minutes late. It had been a long afternoon at the Valentine Testing Labs. He had spent the day helping customers fill out questionnaires from various clients in the mall. This last appointment, though, was different. She was a private client, sent by his Uncle Bob to test the real Valentine line, smut.
“No, not smut, kiddo,” his uncle had told him while waving his forkful of spaghetti. “We sell romance.”
“It’s sex toys, Bob. Dildos and vibes and God only knows what else, not violin music!” John exclaimed.
“It all leads to the same thing. People use our products to learn how to be better lovers. Being a better lover is romantic. Right, Miriam?” he asked, caressing the curve of his wife’s cheek. “Nowadays a guy thinks he’s a great lover, but what’s he do? Lick, lick. Rub, rub. A few minutes of in and out and he rolls over and goes to sleep. Bah! What does his lover do? She wonders what all the fuss is about and she loses all interest. Maybe she finds someone who does know.”
“And the ladies. If they don’t know what pleases them, what makes them feel good, how can they show their partner? We help them learn their own bodies and they become better lovers. And that’s romance,” he concluded.