In writing one of my recent stories, ‘The Red Dress’. I pieced together timelines and places from the sixty-odd postcards my mother had kept of my travels around Europe. Also, having been a keen photographer all my life, I am lucky that I had the foresight to write names and dates on most of my photos. One of the photos I came across was of Penny and me at a mate’s wedding. I only knew her for a few months, but wow, the m...

I arrived back in England in the last week of August. My mates had given up our Brooklands Close flat, and two of them (Brian and Phil) said I could sleep on the settee in the lounge of their new flat for the week before I left for Venice. In addition to all the gear I had stored at Brian's, my Mini was parked outside. So when I awoke the first morning, I set to servicing it to get it running again. I first had to buy a n...

This story continues from my last story about Penny. It is a bit of a travelogue, touching on the Sex, Drugs, and Rock n Roll era of the early seventies. But although this was a summer of sexual excess, I’d like to point out that I did not bang every girl I met. Like any guy, I missed out far more with the ladies than I ever scored. Curiously, If I went out with the sole intention of picking up a quick bonk, more often th...