Benjamin Braddock (The Graduate)

Angel in the Fields (Marylebone)

**** me, I can't wait to tell my mates. I've got a bunch of them coming down to this gaff in Marylebone in a minute and I'm gagging to spill the beans over a few beers.

I've avoided the temptation to send a text or chuck round a few emails. But if I don't tell someone soon, I'm going to explode!

Let me ask you a question. What's the best in-the-sack experience you could possibly imagine? Huh?

Maybe you're thinking "Joss Stone up the a**e?" Perhaps it's "Kiera Knightly in her football clobber on my face?" Or just possibly, you're into "a couple of hot lezzers who turn on the hetro tap for a quickie threesome in a darkened alleyway?"

Not even close to what's happened to me mate. I can hardly believe it meself, what with me only being 21 and recently completing a business studies degree at Portsmouth poly.

I'm humpin' a mother and daughter combination that would make the most beautiful ITN newsreaders look like The Chuckle Brothers.

These broads are as hot as effing cross buns!

But that's not even the best bit. The mother, well she seduced me, the saucy, middle-aged tartlet. Wouldn't take no for an answer.

I tried to resist, but in the end I just thought f**k it! Which is exactly what I did. F****d it into the middle of next week, didn't I.

But there's more. Turns out she's got an ultra-fit daughter too, and after I've been hanging round mum's swimming pool for a couple of weeks I take the little minx out for a drink.

What with the mother seduction thing, I was feeling like James Bond, so I pushed me luck somewhat.

Took her down to Soho for some Raymond Revue action. To begin with, I thought I'd gone too far; she had a face like thunder as the tart with the tassles wiggled her floppies around.

But I was being over-sensitive, seeing things that weren't there. As I'm driving her home in the Capri, she only leans over and slips her chompers around me tip and performs the oboe solo. Fucking magic!

Since then it's been open season. One day I'll do the mum. The next, I'm in her daughter. Like a porno p***k' n' mix.

So you'll understand why I'm pretty anxious for the fellas to hear all about it.

I've got the Alpines in – s**t lager by the way - and the scene is set. Light pouring in through the stain-glass windows in a pub called the Angel, raring to tell my posse the two-fannied parable.

It's f*****g religious innit! I'm Jesus f*****g Christ! But I tell you something; unlike the Nazarene, I ain't gonna be asking any f****r to take this pair of furry cups away from me.

Benjamin Braddock's rating for the Angel in the Fields - 5 / 10

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