She climbed, somewhat uncertainly, into bed. Quite drunk from the night out.
Drunk enough to feel amorous. Not drunk enough to let me touch her as she had demanded.
Well, I say demanded, cuddled up, made all the 'right' noises, wriggled... and then when my hand wandered towards her skin, recoiled, pushed away, hid, said 'wait a minute' - and was asleep in moments.
Sad thing was I didn't want to touch her. Only a feeling of duty, obligation, made me.
Even the little touch of her I managed didn't work for me, I didn't enjoy the feel of her.

I feel ashamed.
And at the same time kind of liberated, because I know this isn't my fault.