Unzipped: proof that power is the ultimate aphrodisiac Anonymous Virgin, 240pp, £12.99 ISBN 1852273011

"Westminster scandals exposed!!" screeches the publisher's blurb. "A senior Tory lifts the lid on the prostitutes and sex parties, the extramarital affairs, the shocking truth behind the party conferences and lobbying." Now that's quite an eclectic mix, and given that I am supposed to be expert on only one item on that list, I approached this slim volume with trepidation.

It's got plenty of sex, that's for sure. Copulation follows copulation, usually after lap-dancing, champagne and the transfer of wads of cash, shared with companions of various genders. The author is allegedly given his freedom by his wife, then sets out on a voyage of discovery to rival that of the Marquis de Sade and Casanova, adding dashes of political life as colour: The Story of O crossed with Alan Clark's Diaries, perhaps. At page 50 I was reading choice titbits to my husband in bed. ("It's rubbish," he grumbled.) By page 103 I was contemplating whether to try any of the positions described; a bad back and the necessity of walking the dogs in the morning precluded such gymnastics. Chapter 12 is particularly engrossing, for those who don't have time to read a whole book. And I was left full of admiration for the athletic prowess and stamina of the writer. That alone suggests he's not a Tory.

For the most part, it's soft porn, of what I imagine is a rather gentle persuasion. My experience of the genre is limited to the Literary Review's Bad Sex Award and a couple of Black Lace novels for a discussion about sexual exploitation on Woman's Hour. I have always found reading about sex or watching porno videos a poor substitute for the real thing, but sales of such stuff indicate that many people don't have that choice - more saddo than sado, I suppose. No harm in that, though I am still left with a puzzle.

About halfway through, the story becomes much more interesting, as our shy hero falls in love with a Russian prostitute named Mimi and develops a taste for women from eastern Europe. Business trips to Lithuania and Latvia follow; the post-Soviet cities, their inhabitants and modern manners are described with wit and shrewd observation. An invitation to a Latvian wedding results in hilarious scenes; the women are attractive, intelligent and independent, their brothers tough heavies, and the Englishmen drunken slobs who fail to impress and have to leave in a hurry. As Mimi warns him, "Your friend is wanker who thinks he knows it all; take my word, you will be lucky to get out not in concrete boots if he behave like that." Whoever wrote this must have been there, and this section of the novel is a delight.

Novel? Of course. Because it's fiction, it's got to be. A spoof. Two questions obviously arise. Who is "Anonymous"? And why did he write this book? Sorry, but he's not a senior Tory. Even he admits that he was never a Conservative MP; the closest our hero gets was a seat at the 1997 election, which we lost (his descriptions are delicious: "At an Essex selection committee, even the men wear white shoes"). Instead he's a lobbyist: but it's new Labourites and Lib Dems who become lobbyists - real Tories go into real business and make money.

Most parliamentarians don't have the skill to write anything like this, and if they had indeed had such success in wowing the ladies, they'd be boasting to the skies, as Alan Clark did. They wouldn't want to remain nameless. Hiding their light under a bushel is a quality emphatically not found in politicians. So maybe I'll flush the author out by saying that this book is too damn good to have been produced by anyone other than a professional writer, and my guess is a journalist in the thick of things at Westminster who is also an aficionado of the clubs, covens and low life in our capital city and beyond.

Why write this stuff, then? Because it will sell better than any worthy hagiography of Alan Milburn or Gordon Brown, which would take a year's work with every fact checked twice and every interesting rumour blue-pencilled by the lawyers. The material in that direction is limited: well-known politicians are nerds with tedious lives, and any with sufficient ego will prove it by writing their own boring version. So Anonymous is attempting to exploit the double come-ons of lurid sex and rampagingly naughty politicians, both of which are largely modern myths. Good luck to him, I say; and with talents like this, I look forward to his writing a number-one bestselling novel in the future.

Edwina Currie's "Diaries 1987-1992" are published by Time Warner Paperbacks

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