A Letter from Aleppo

I do hope you enjoy my latest work. As always any resemblance to persons living or dead are purely accidental. All characters are made up from my own warped imagination. The story belongs to me, so please do not use it without my permission. As always the tale contains descriptions of many kinds of sexual activity, so if you are under 18, or those kind of things offend you please move on.

There is a lot of poetic licence with the use of places and war zones in the World. If you know them to be inaccurate I apologise, but it is not intended to be a work of non-fiction and is just to give a plausible background for the root of the story. As always I am not a professional so be kind, and if you want to leave a comment or a rating that would be fantastic.

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Chapter 1

"Mrs Greenacre for you Doctor."

"Thank you Angie. Please sit-down Mrs. Greenacre." Alan smiled at the nurse who had brought him his next patient. Angie wasn`t just his nurse, but also his wife of five years. Angie gave him a wink as the octogenarian stumbled into her seat in front of Doctor Alan Baldwin`s desk.

Alan sighed softly to himself as he read through the old woman's file. Progressive rheumatoid arthritis that wouldn`t get better before she hurried off this mortal coil to meet her maker. Alan had spent the last five months trying to ease her agony by prescribing stronger and stronger pain medication, but he was having only limited success.

Alan was one of those doctors who absorbed his patients suffering when he couldn`t find a remedy for what ailed them. He let the old woman spill out her pain even though he knew he could do nothing, and his waiting room was probably full of people that he might actually be able to help.

Eventually he helped her to her feet after buzzing Angie to come in. His wife arrived within a minute and supported Mrs. Greenacre as she hobbled from the room. Alan`s heart was breaking for the woman, but he had run out of ideas. He slumped in his chair and drank some cold coffee from the mug on his desk with "Best Dr. Ever" written on it in a childish scrawl. It was a gift from a cancer patient he had helped many years ago. She had been five years old and destined not to see her seventh birthday, but somehow she had gone into remission and had given all the credit to Alan. The cup was a constant reminder that miracles do happen, as the girl had just celebrated her fifteenth birthday only last week. As was her custom, a slice of her birthday cake was left at reception for Alan the day after.

Angie popped her head around his door and asked, "More Coffee Alan?"

"Yes please love!" and he handed her his cup as she came into the room. For not the first time in his life he wondered how he had got so lucky. Alan wasn`t an ugly man by any stretch of the imagination, but he also wouldn`t have been described as handsome. Rugged and Manly maybe, but handsome definitely not. His looks were also not helped by the angry red scar that ran nearly four inches across his cheek. This was a legacy of his time with Doctors without Borders.

Angie on the other hand was a beauty that could have graced any magazine cover of Elle or Vogue. Her long reddish-brown hair, that was now pinned up severely on top of her head, flowed in a cascade of curls well past her shoulders when they were alone in their bed. Green eyes sparkled with mischief ninety percent of the time, or flamed in anger when her Irish roots forced their way to the surface if she was enraged. Her nose was quite big, but this actually increased, rather than diminished her beauty, especially when it flared when she was pissed off. In her white, work T-shirt her medium sized, firm breasts were hidden, but Alan loved to play with them, and tease her rather large rosy nipples when they snuggled at home late at night. Angie`s body curved in all the right places. Her hips were wide but fitted with her nearly six-foot frame. Her legs and buttocks were hard and taut from the five miles she ran every morning before surgery began.

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Angie definitely looked better than the first time he had clapped eyes on her. That time she was sweating, her long hair stuck to her face, her entire body covered in a layer of dust from the shelling, and her T-shirt and the trousers of her scrubs covered in the blood of a ten-year-old girl who had been hit by sniper fire, and who she now held in her arms as she carried her to the newly arrived doctor from England.

Alan had worked on the girl, he never did know her name, for nearly five hours until she passed away with Angie still holding her hand. "Bastards!" she had spat out before returning to the fray as more casualties had arrived.

Angie and Alan had worked together in Aleppo for nearly three months. They had grown close, though never lovers. Alan had wondered sometimes why that was. He usually came to the same conclusion that being covered in brains, blood and vomit was not that conducive to getting you in the mood so to speak. The other factor was that when they could get ten minutes to an hour in bed it wasn`t to be wasted with sex. Sleep was much, much more important.

They had been evacuated from Aleppo when it became too dangerous to work. Huddled in the back of a Toyota land cruiser with their good friend and fellow doctor Hameed they were being driven towards the Turkish border when a RPG exploded next to the vehicle on Alan`s side. A piece of shrapnel had breached the window and sent a hot searing torment across his cheek. Alan would probably have died that day if it wasn`t for Angie and Hameed. Angie nursed him with pain meds as Hameed made a field transfusion using his own blood as they transferred to another vehicle in the convoy and drove another twelve hours to the next hospital.

Angie and Hameed had never left his side as he underwent emergency surgery and then recuperated in a fly ridden ward until it was possible to evacuate him to Frankfurt in Germany. Angie had flown with him, and stayed sleeping in his hospital room until he was discharged. Hameed had returned to Aleppo, his home town, and was still there as far as Alan knew, as there had been no contact since that day.

The night of his discharge Alan and Angie had become lovers in a hotel in Frankfurt, very close to the main station. They never left the hotel room for nearly three days, just ordering room service when they needed fortification for their next bout of energetic sex. Angie was like a wildcat in the bed. Alan was still feeling pain from his wound, and by the time Angie had finished with him his whole body hurt as badly as his cheek. His cock was so sore that Alan thought he may lose the use of it, as it had been bent, sucked and fucked in every way possible and still Angie wanted more.

On the third day they got a message from the HQ of Doctors without Borders. Would one or both of them want to go home, or there was another three-month posting available in South Sudan, but over the border and away from the fighting. They both agreed they would take this one last job and then quit for good.

The next three months were some of the happiest of Alan`s life. He worked in a relatively modern hospital all day with Angie, then spent their evenings making love in as many ways as Angie's creative mind could conjure up.

When the three months was up they both "Demobbed" and went back to London. Alan had no family. He was an only child and his parents had both died within six months of each other while he was in medical school. He still owned the house that he was brought up in and Angie and he used that as a base.

A very long three weeks was spent visiting Angie`s family in a small village West of Dublin. To Alan it seemed like three years, as they had to sleep in separate bedrooms because Angie`s mum was a good catholic girl. Unlike her daughter!!

To compensate Alan for their lack of intimacy in the house Angie would take him on long walks around the farm her family owned and would give him a blow job or a hand job in some secluded wood or a derelict barn on the premises. They nearly got caught by Angie`s father on one occasion when Angie was sucking his dick feverishly in the hay loft of one of the barns. Her father came in looking for some long-lost tools, wandering around beneath them for twenty minutes. Much to Alan`s complete shock the man`s daughter, rather than stopping what she was doing, pulled her panties down from under her skirt, straddled him, riding him slowly and silently with her father only five metres below.

Only when Angie`s father had walked out of the barn did Angie increase the tempo until they came together minutes later. It was that day with Angie still lying on his chest, his cock still inside her that he had said, "Angie Boland. Will you marry me?"

Angie had hugged and kissed him as she yelled, "Yes Alan. Yes I will fucking marry you, and we will stay married until they day I`ve fucked you to death!" She was laughing so loudly as she ground her pubic bone against his that Alan felt himself begin to stiffen inside her once more.

An hour later they walked back into the cosy farmhouse where Angie had been born. Angie announced to her family that she was to marry. Her Mum was ecstatic as she had taken quite a shine to the polite English doctor. Her father muttered something about, "A bloody Englishman in the family," before dragging Alan down to the local pub. Angie had to come and pick them up in an old Land Rover after six hours, fourteen pints of Guinness and half a dozen Bushmills chasers.

Alan didn`t surface until nearly midday the next day. By then Angie had already arranged the wedding in the local church for a week on Saturday. Alan called his best friend Jack, who he had known since the first day at infants school, and luckily he could make it as his Best Man.

The wedding was a boozy affair full of love and affection from all attendees. After the party Alan and Angie were allowed to sleep in her bed at last. They consummated their marriage at least five times before they arrived very late to breakfast the next day.

Another four days later and Alan got an e-mail from a surgery very close to his family home in Wallington. The doctor was in the process of retiring and she wondered if Alan would be interested in taking over the practice.

On their return from Frankfurt, Alan had sent out e-mails with his CV to all the local doctors, more in hope than expectation, so after a brief discussion with Angie he had sent back an acceptance mail. It turned out that the doctors nurse, come receptionist, was also the doctors lesbian lover and they would both be retiring to Cyprus together, so there was a ready-made job for Angie as well.

A month later after working with the two soon to be retirees, Angie and Alan opened the doors for their first working day as a team. That was five years ago. They loved their work, and the patients were mainly a joy to deal with. There were the odd couple of cranky old bastards, but they were truly in the minority.

If work was a joy for the couple, their home life was bliss. Angie was a born homemaker and the old house he had inherited from his parents was soon redecorated and furnished very tastefully. Their nights were spent making love in the huge bed that Angie had ordered specially. They had discussed having kids, but Angie had told him, "I don`t want children. I`ve seen so much suffering in this World, I really don`t want to bring another poor soul into it. However, I really enjoy the sex part, it`s the pushing a bowling ball out of my vagina that is not so appealing!"

The couple had never told Angie`s mum about their decision to stay childless and had to deflect the question during every phone call and visit with a,"Sweet Jesus hasn`t blessed us yet."

Alan had nearly choked on his tea one time in the farmhouses warm kitchen when Angie`s mother replied to their standard denial that it was God`s work that Angie hadn`t produced a grandchild, "Well I don`t know for the life of me how that is possible. I hear you fucking and fucking every bloody night, but with no end result!"

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Angie took his cup from him and brought it back full, together with the next patient. Mr. Ames. Alan spent the next uncomfortable quarter of an hour removing a roll of sweets that had "accidently" got stuck up poor Mr. Ames`s bum, even though he knew that if Mr. Ames would have waited another few hours the sweets would probably have melted anyway. Thankfully there were no more patients to see as the clock had now ticked onto five o`clock.

Angie came in and shook her chestnut hair free from where she had pinned it for her day of giving inoculations, taking blood samples, as well as controlling the flow of patients to her husband. Alan knew he had struck gold when he married this fabulous multitalented woman. As Alan began to update the patient files Angie again demonstrated her vast range of her skills.

Swinging his chair around she aggressively grabbed the waistband of his scrubs and nearly ripped them from his body. Alan shouted, "Oi!" in shock as Angie placed her lips around his semi hard cock. "What if someone comes in Angie?"

"Locked. Door!" mumbled Angie around his cock, her tongue lashing furiously everywhere on his now swelling head.

Alan relaxed back into the chair, laid his head on the rest at the top, closed his eyes and luxuriated in the sensations his wife was causing. Angie didn`t do just blow jobs. When she sucked his cock it was like a work of art. Angie definitely didn`t fall into the category of the wife who felt it was their duty to blow their husband occasionally. No, Angie really loved giving him head, putting her heart and soul into it every time until he filled her mouth with his salty cream, which she devoured with relish as if it was the most expensive caviar.

This time was no exception. She teased him with her tongue, deep throated him once or twice, sucked each of his balls in turn, then licked up and down his shaft until Alan wrapped his hands in her chestnut mane as a signal he was close. Angie`s lips wrapped around the crown of his cock, and her tongue poked at the little slit in the top until Alan jerked wildly four or five times and Angie greedily slurped his semen down her throat and into her stomach. When she had swallowed all that he could produce she grinned shyly up at him from where she knelt on the hardwood floor, "Better Doctor Baldwin?"

Alan`s breathing was nearly back to a regular rhythm as he replied, "Perfect Nurse. That was just what the doctor ordered after a shitty day."

They were both still laughing as they walked the half a mile home after making sure the surgery was closed securely and the alarm was set.

Chapter 2

As was their custom on a Friday night they stopped at The Three Feathers for a drink on their way home. They spent an enjoyable couple of hours chatting with a few of the other regulars. Angie definitely had her father`s genes as she could down Guinness faster, and with less consequences than Alan. He was just finishing his second glass of creamy black beer when Angie swallowed the last dregs of her fourth.

Angie asked, "Another?" and Alan shook his head. "Shall we get a kebab Alan? I really cannot be arsed to cook anything!"

Ten minutes later they were unwrapping their döner at the large, wooden, kitchen table and tucking in ravenously as their fingers fought over the shared portion of heavily salted chips.

As Alan crumpled up the paper wrappings and polystyrene boxes and went to place them in the recycle bin in the back garden Angie walked through the hall to take a shower upstairs. As usual they had entered through the back door, so had not seen the letter that lay on their doormat. "Alan, we have post," Angie bellowed as she picked up the pale blue envelope. "It`s from Syria." She called even louder as Alan was now in their back garden.

"What?" he yelled back as he entered the kitchen.

"There`s a letter here," turning the envelope over and reading the senders name she added loudly, "It`s from Hameed!"

"Fuck!" was Alan`s only reply, such was the surprise at hearing from their old colleague after all this time.

Angie walked back into the kitchen at the same time as she ripped the envelope open. They both stood in the kitchen as Angie read the letter out loud.

"Dear Alan, I hope this letter finds you well as it is the address you gave me many years ago. When you were hurt you told me that if I ever needed a favour then just to ask. Well now I would hope that you can help me. After many years of trying I have eventually got my sister Ayla a visa to travel to London. As part of the conditions of her entry I had to give the name of a respected person that would aid her if needed. I know only you. Ayla is 23 now. When I was with you in Aleppo she was only 14. She has grown into a headstrong woman, but with a skill for medicine that I could only dream of. She was lucky enough to be granted a place as a trainee nurse in a hospital very close to where you are now. I looked it up on Google maps. I was hoping that I could impose on you to let her stay with you until she finds suitable accommodation, or a place becomes available in the nurses dormitory. They have told me this could take one or two months. There will be no financial obligation on your side as the family has provided more than enough funds for her stay. I have given her this address and she will arrive in London on May 20th. If this is not convenient I would understand completely. Your friend for eternity. Hameed"

Alan took the envelope from Angie and saw it was post marked four weeks before. They both knew how unreliable the Syrian post was, so this was no surprise. The problem was that tomorrow was May 20th. The couple looked at each, but no one wanted to be the first to say anything. Alan read the letter once more. He sighed and said, "You know I cannot refuse Angie. If it wasn`t for Hameed I wouldn`t be here today. It`s only for a month at most. What do you think?"

There was no problem with space. The house had three bedrooms, and they had two bathrooms. The only problem that Angie could see was that the couple had got used to it just being the two of them. They often walked about the house with next to nothing on and having a girl who had been bought up in the Muslim faith around the house would definitely put a stop to that Angie guessed. They also liked a drink in the evening, and it was a rare evening when they didn`t have a bottle of wine or a couple of cans of beer when they watched the TV. Then there was the sex. Angie could be quite vociferous in their lovemaking, so that would have to end if they had a young, innocent lodger.

In the end she nodded as she knew that what Alan had said was the truth. Without Hameed Alan would have more than likely died on the road out of Aleppo so she reluctantly nodded her consent. Then with a grin she told Alan, "Well if I am going without sex for a month Dr. Baldwin you had better put on a fucking good performance tonight. I need at least twenty orgasms to get me through a month of abstinence!"

"Well you better get up those stairs nurse, as I am going to take you to paradise tonight. You will be walking bow legged for a month young lady," with that he playfully chased a giggling Angie up the stairs to the bedroom.

He didn`t quite manage to give her the twenty orgasms she had demanded, in fact he wasn`t even close, but the three she had were more than satisfying. They lay in bed afterwards, both with silly grins on their faces.

The next morning Alan groaned and rolled over but found the bed empty. He placed a pillow over his head to try and drown out the sound of the vacuum coming from across the landing, Eventually he stirred himself and walked across to the second biggest bedroom after the one he shared with Angie. "It`s fucking eight o`clock Angie!" he complained loudly so she would hear him over the racket.