A week of duvet days

I'm working on some 'adult' copy this week, which I'm finding quite hard (no pun there, honest). Am starting to think in erotic puns. The copy is for adult spoken-word audio - bedtime stories for grown-ups.

It's not cringey or hardcore adult stuff, but it's still quite enough to make me blush. It's tough reading stories featuring changing-room encounters, or underwater sex, at 10am on a weekday (without spouse) - somehow feels terribly wrong.

And yet I also know that there's nothing wrong about it, whatsoever. That's the angle we're taking: today's modern woman (and man) works hard and plays hard. Pour a glass of wine, turn on a CD, relax, and have some fun. So far, so good. Nothing wrong with that, nothing wrong with talking about sex... or fantasising. So why does it embarrass me?

The copy, needless to say, tiptoes around the subject in a giggly, drunken fashion. Lots of innuendo without resorting to (stereo)type. But why is sex embarrassing? And who decided that it should be? At what point in history did this happen.... and why??