So far, I have only thought about playing with other guys. The thought is huge and intimidating. Fear of hurting and betraying my husband prevents me.

I have been thinking of getting to a sauna on my own. Maybe just to relax – if I go, I will go without hope or expectation. It would be a massive step and one to be taken cautiously.

I did not believe in fortune tellers or that the future is written and unchangeable, however I find that a tarot spread can help me interrogate my feelings.

I asked myself the question “Would the gods smile upon a visit to a gay sauna?” I thought that I’d try to keep it vague and open my mind up.

The result seemed to suggest that if I did it, that I should be brave and take care of myself. There was also a warning of heartbreak, but whether that is a deepening of my own, or further hurt for my husband it’s not known. I should tread carefully and with compassion for both of us.

It would be much easier to get drunk and if something happened – I could at least pretend that it wasn’t premeditated. Heading to a sauna where sex is a distinct possibility does not permit any denial of responsibility.

Should I go, I would not tell my husband? He was very upset when I told him about my planned trip to London to play. He gets upset when I comment that I find a certain guy attractive.

In short: it is no longer his business and I do not wish to cause him further pain.

I love him still.

I’m reminded of a speech by Brutus in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar:

Between the acting of a dreadful thing
And the first motion, all the interim is
Like a phantasma or a hideous dream.

Julius Caesar, Act II, Scene i

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Well I’ve been. £11 for the train, £20 to get in.

I was so nervous. My tummy was doing summersaults. I took a diarrhea tablet and anti-nausea tablet to try to settle it a bit.

As I approached the venue, there were a couple of guys talking on the roof. One of them was HOT: muscled and tattooed with a beard. Hmm! Yes daddy!

The guy at the door was friendly and showed me around. The hot tub was broken, the paint was peeling off the ceiling.

Really wanted a gin and tonic to help me relax, but no alcohol was sold there. However, there were plenty of bottles of poppers and douches. Condoms and lube were plentiful.

I jumped in the jacuzzi. It was outside, which was kinda nice, bit the water wasn’t as warm as I would have liked, given the weather. I chappie got in at the same time as me and told me a bit about the club. Another fellow got in afterwards and I realised that he had found the bubble jet and was sat so that it was tickling his tush! That’s where I should have sat!

After a while, I went exploring. I want relaxed but neither was I excited. I wasn’t really in the mood for it.

I found an unoccupied dark room with a sex swing (I would love to have a go on one someday).

I went into the steam room. It was so dark in there that I couldn’t see if there was any seating. There was also a smell… what was it? It certainly wasn’t sex. More like laundry put away damp.

I tried the dry rooms. The first was too hot, the second was more pleasant – like the decking on a warm summer’s day. It smelt the same, too: clean, dry wood. I lay there for a while trying to relax.

I couldn’t relax.

Neither was I feeling horny.

I went into the lounge area and had a drink. A soft drink.

There’s was a guy there with a wonderful hairy chest: a great fit the eyes!

He got up and sat next to me.

I gave him a very brief life history, before flashing him my scrotal void.

“What is that? A scar? Cancer?”

I explained about dysphoria and how I feel better in my body.

He was disappointed: he said that he was looking for a top and that there wasn’t one in the building.

He did let me tickle his chest. I miss cuddling a warm, fuzzy chest.

He got up, trolling for a trick.

I went upstairs to the porn room.

There was a bit of a dark room labyrinth up there as well, although it was empty.

There were four people watching porn. It wasn’t to my taste, but it did remind me that I have “The Summer With Carmen” to watch at home (not porn, very seriously hot).

I thought to myself: “I’m not in the right headspace. I have kept the promise to myself. I’ll try Bournemouth on my own next time. But maybe saunas really aren’t my thing.”

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I headed through Portsmouth centre towards the trains getting a little disappointed in myself.

I sat for a coffee and a tea cake and to write up my blog for the day … idiot! I was messing around with my phone and swoosh! A seagull has whipped my cake from right under my eyes!

It was hilarious! And serve me right for not paying attention.

Then a woman with young kids, whom I took to be her grandkids, gave me a replacement!

My day is saved by kindness rather than cock!