I don’t know about you but when I saw that the government was to sanction the opening of sex shops in Catholic Malta, well... I did a double take. I kept thinking of my nanna turning slowly in her grave at the mere thought of rude retail.

Having said that, the old girl would have been positively spinning in her vault had she known that I – her precious grandson – had a small financial interest in one such establishment. Well why not? I’m not a prude and I truly believe these things should be out in the open.

Oh there was opposition from within the family. My unmarried Aunt Grace was appalled: “How could you do such a thing? Don’t you have any sense of decency? What would nannu have said?”

Dunno, something like: “Why not?” Knowing him. So sorry Auntie, I’ve spotted a niche market and I’m going for it... in the company of my business partner, that is. To be honest, it is he – David – who is putting up most of the capital and who will be in charge of the day-to-day running of the business; I will be... not exactly a sleeping partner, more a cat-napping one.

But I think we’re in good hands; Dave is not exactly a sex shop virgin. He has been running a naughty online site for a few years now. ‘Do it with Dave’ has been a very popular website – and his business has really taken off in recent years.

The decision to open a retail outlet in Malta was – I have to admit – all Dave’s. He felt... feels that a solid bricks and mortar establishment will cement (no pun intended) the core of his business... and yes, I’m tagging along for the ride (absolutely no pun intended).

To be perfectly honest and, I suppose, a tad naive, when Dave asked me to join in on the deal, I really had a very limited idea of just what a sex shop sold. I knew it wasn’t sex per se... that is still apparently illegal, or so I believe.

I was absolutely astounded to discover that we have in stock no fewer than 27 different kinds of whips

Dave soon put me wise as to the sort of stock we would be carrying. No bimbos but lots of bungoes... what are known in the trade as ‘sex aids’.

You know the sort of stuff: Maltese Spanish fly (Marmite with attitude), lots and lots of funny rubber things shaped like outsize bananas, also condoms of every size and... would you believe... flavour. I rather like the timpana-flavoured one – but let’s not go there.

We also stock stuff from the far out regions of sexual practice and preference such as: high quality latex French maid’s uniforms... in all sizes from petite to gross; handcuffs: presumably in case any of our clients has penal fantasies; all manner of rubber and PVC wear, legal drugs to assist with, erm... performance, dirty books, magazines and DVDs.

Among the many publications dedicated to just about every kind of perversion known to man or beast, there is even a tome on the sexiest and most compliant breeds of sheep... this particular book is written in Welsh, of course.

We also stock a hardback tome entitled Bond Age and You... and no, it’s not all about retired secret agents. Or one called The Ultimate Book of Cross Dressing; at first I thought this had to do with anger management among strippers... wrong again.

We also have a naughty underwear section, you know... basques, bumless pants, titty-free tops, open-crotch knickers... the lot. In fact, we have an enormous stock of so-called sex aids. Stuff I never knew existed... let alone be used for... well, you know.

For example, I was absolutely astounded to discover that we have in stock no fewer than 27 different kinds of whips. Twenty-seven! I mean, why? A whip’s a whip for goodness sake.

Actually, I have a very good feeling about ‘Rude Awakenings’, I think it could do very well. Just as long as nobody I know spots me going in and out... ahem.