A Letter from Aleppo

Without stopping sweeping the machine around the room she replied, "I know. We don`t know what time she will be here. I have already put fresh things on the bed, and cleared our old clothes from the wardrobe, I just have to finish with the hoover and I`m done. Now cover up that gorgeous cock of yours and go and put the fucking coffee on!"

Alan laughed at his wife, and the fact that he was standing in the bedroom doorway with his dick hanging down as he hadn`t even thought about putting any clothes on, such was their ease at home. Secondly, his wife could swear as good as any builder he had ever met. When working out in the field the word Fuck was used as easily as hello, as most situations they had found themselves in could only be described by using the F word.

Doing as she had asked him he wandered back into their bedroom, found a T-shirt and some track suit bottoms and descended to the kitchen. He was sitting at the table, mug in hand, by the time Angie came downstairs to join him. Angie looked good, as she always did after a long night of screwing. Her face was still slightly flushed, and her nipples were little pebbles pressing against the thin material of the Led Zeppelin T-shirt she was wearing over short running shorts that showed way to much leg for that time of the morning.

Pouring herself a mug of Coffee from the machine on the counter she asked him, "What? What the fuck are you staring at Alan? If you think you are going to bend me over that kitchen table and fuck the living daylights out of me......." She paused dramatically then added, "Well your absolutely fucking right!" Angie then hooked off her shorts and T-shirt, bending over the table with her breasts squashed against the pale wood.

Robert was behind her in seconds. He stroked himself quickly to hardness then guided his cock into the warmth of Angie's slit. Alan noticed that she was very wet, so she had apparently been playing this little scenario over in her mind as she prepared the bedroom for their guest.

Robert did all the things he knew she loved to illicit a climax as rapidly as possible. He varied the tempo, depth and angle of his thrusts. Leaning forward he slipped a hand around one of her breasts and pinched her nipple. This he knew was a sure-fire way to bring on her orgasm, and he wasn`t wrong. Angie writhed about on the table and actually murmured breathlessly, "Harder Alan!"

Alan increased the pressure on the hard nub between his thumb and forefinger and Angie nearly screamed, "Fuck! Fuck yes!" as she shoved herself violently backwards against each thrust of Alan`s hips. Angie was going to come soon, that was apparent, and Alan hastened the arrival of that orgasm by sliding his other hand around and rubbing two fingers speedily over her extended clitoris.

Angie exploded. Her head flew back as her back contorted almost painfully. Alan felt her vaginal muscles contract around his cock and her fluids leaking down onto his scrotum.

Angie was still shivering slightly as Alan spurted a significant load inside her, which caused another violent flexing of her entire body followed by another gush of fluids to soak his balls.

As Angie lay panting on the table she muttered, "Fuck! Now I have to clean the fucking kitchen as well!" Alan couldn`t help but laugh, and this earned him a playful punch in the arm from his wife. The next punch was stronger, and intended to hurt as he added, "Well you better hurry up as this room stinks of sex!"

They were both chuckling and trying to pull up their respective shorts and trousers when the doorbell rang. Alan and Angie shared a look of horror as Alan told her, "Get the air freshener while I go and let our guest in." Alan checked to make sure there were no tell-tale stains of spunk on his trousers before trying to be as casual as possible walking down the hall and opening the front door.

Alan`s face creased into a frown when on the step he didn`t find a twenty-three-year-old Syrian girl, but a forty-year-old overweight man in a cheap, shiny brown suit and crumpled shirt and tie. "Yes?" he asked trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.

"Dr. Baldwin?" The man asked in what Alan thought was a Liverpudlian accent.

"Yes!"

"My name is Davenport from the British Home Office. Do you know a Hameed Mahmoud and his sister Ayla?" As he spoke he brandished a laminated card in Alan`s face.

"What is this about Mr. Davenport?"

"Mr Mahmoud has informed us that you will take responsibility for his sister Ayla whilst she is a guest here in our country. Ayla is due to start a three-year nursing course at Carshalton hospital starting on Monday May 22nd. She is awaiting a place in the nursing quarters attached to the hospital, but in the meantime she will stay with you, and you will provide her with accommodation and anything else she may need in that time. Is that correct?"

"That is correct. I don`t know Ayla personally, although I did meet her very briefly many years ago, but Hameed I know very well. We worked together when I was with Doctors without Borders in Syria. In fact the man saved my life. So yes, I will take responsibility for Ayla. Do I have to sign something to that effect?"

"That won`t be necessary Sir. We have your details on record and knew of your connection to Mr. Mahmoud, so this is just a formality so to speak." With that he waved at a car that was parked blocking the drive to Alan and Angie`s house.

The back door of the car swung open and a thin man in an equally cheap, dark-blue suit climbed out followed by a woman in a smart grey pant suit, a grey hijab covering her hair. The dark-blue suit man retrieved a large suitcase from the trunk of the car, and the woman took it before walking up the drive.

Mr. Davenport and the woman crossed at the midpoint of the drive and Alan watched her dip her head differentially as they passed each other. Alan studied her as she approached. Quite tall at around five feet nine or ten. A nice figure in the obviously made to measure grey suit. A pale pink blouse beneath it was buttoned to her throat. Surprisingly she wore nice black shoes with a three-inch heel. Then she was stood before him and spoke in perfect, unaccented English, "You are the doctor who my brother helped in Syria. I remember you. I saw you from afar many times, and a few times we met."

Alan looked at her pretty face with dark, soulful, brown eyes that had been highlighted with the dark black mascara that was very popular in Middle Eastern countries. A small nose, high cheek bones, and full lips painted a bright scarlet. Ayla would definitely break a few hearts in her life that was for sure, she was stunning. As the car pulled away from the end of the drive Ayla unwrapped the hijab from around her head and shook her head so that her ebony hair flowed out onto her shoulders.

"Can I come in?" she asked politely.

Only then did Alan realise that he had been staring at her, frozen in place.

"Yes. Yes. Of course," he blustered grabbing her bag to hide his embarrassment. "You must be tired after the flight. Come through to the kitchen and meet my wife Angie." Alan was sure that he detected a brief flash of disappointment on Ayla`s face when he mentioned Angie, but it vanished so quickly that he wasn`t sure it had been there at all.

Ushering her before him he left the bag in the hall and called out "Angie. Ayla`s here!"

Angie walked from the kitchen still wearing the rubber gloves she had donned to clean the table and surrounding area that they had used so erotically only a few minutes prior to Ayla`s arrival.

When Ayla saw Angie her face broke into a broad grin, "I remember you nurse Angie. You were also in Syria. All of the other children said you were so kind that sometimes they played sick just to spend some time with you. You are very beautiful!"

Angie blushed at the compliment and replied, "Well thank you. You have also grown into a very pretty woman. Hameed must be very proud of his little sister. How is he by the way?"

Ayla`s face turned sad. "He is alive. That is all I can say. He was wounded badly about a year ago, and now can only walk with the aid of a cane. Plus he lost a part of his arm, so it is difficult for him to work as a doctor. I think that is the most agonising thing for him."

"Oh my God!" Angie and Alan said almost simultaneously.

After that the trio were silent, each lost in their own memories of Hameed. Then Alan remembered his manners and asked, "Would you like coffee or tea? Water? Or I think we have Coke as well."

"Coffee would be fantastic. Thank you!"

The three sat at the kitchen table sipping from mugs of coffee. Ayla told them how hard Hameed had worked to get her accepted for the nurses visa programme. He had also had to bribe a few people in Syria so as they didn`t block her travel.

Alan remembered Hameed telling him that he came from a wealthy family when they had shared a contraband bottle of whiskey during a lull in the fighting. As the booze took its effect Hameed had told Alan that the family had converted their wealth into Gold at the onset of the civil war and smuggled it to a bank in Dubai. Apparently that wealth had now been used to facilitate Ayla`s escape to the UK.

As if reading his mind Ayla reached into a small handbag that hung from her shoulder. She withdrew an envelope similar to that which Hameed's letter had arrived in. Alan saw his name printed carefully on the front in block capitals. Ayla handed him the thick envelope. Inside was a wad of notes, "Two thousand pounds," Ayla announced, "To cover any costs you may have during my stay."

Angie gasped and Robert slid the envelope back to Ayla, "There is no need for any payment. Without your brother I probably wouldn`t be here, so if anyone should be paying, then I should be paying him. You are welcome to stay here as long as you want."

Angie finally found her voice and said, "Come on Ayla. Let me show your room. Alan take the bag please."

The couple showed Ayla into her room. Explained where the bathroom was, and then left her to unpack as they went back downstairs. Once back in the kitchen Angie said, "Fucking hell Alan she`s gorgeous. We will have to put a minefield around the house to keep the boys away." Then she grabbed his dick roughly as she continued, "And you can either keep this in me, or your pants. Understood?" Alan nodded frantically until she released him from her grip.

They both laughed as they cleared away the mugs and washed out the coffee machine. When Ayla didn`t return after thirty minutes Angie crept up the stairs to see if she needed anything. The door to her room was open and Angie peered inside. Ayla lay on her back on the bed. The stylish pants suit was neatly folded over a chair next to a small vanity table. The large suitcase was on the floor with the top open, and Angie could see that it was empty. Ayla had apparently put all her clothes away in the wardrobe or the chest of drawers against the other wall.

Ayla was topless lying on top of the bedcovers, her small breasts rising and falling as she slept. Her nipples were hard little dark brown bumps against her tanned skin, as it was still quite fresh in the bedroom. The only thing she was wearing was a small pair of pale-blue bikini briefs that were tight against her mons. Angie couldn`t help but admit that Ayla was a fantastic looking woman with a figure most women would give their right arm for. Silently she pulled the door shut and went back downstairs to Alan. Angie just told him she was asleep, and not that she had seen her nearly naked. The last thing she needed was Alan getting all horny over their new house mate.

It was nearly three hours later when Ayla appeared through the door of the lounge where Angie and Alan had waited for her whilst watching a film on Netflix. She had brushed out her hair and washed her face. Alan gulped when he saw her standing there wearing a crop top T-shirt, the swell of the bottom of her breasts nearly visible under the hem. An expanse of bronzed flat tummy between the T-shirt and the hem of her skirt, which was more belt than skirt as it exposed nearly all of her long-tanned legs. On her feet were pristine white Adidas sneakers. Alan couldn`t help but stare, as only about thirty percent of her body was hidden from view.

Angie "accidentally" put all her body weight onto Alan`s groin as she used her hand to lever herself up from the sofa. He winced as Angie asked Ayla politely, "Sleep well? You must have been dead after the flight."

Alan said nothing. He desperately wanted to massage his bruised balls after Angie had squashed them, but considered that now wouldn't be an opportune moment if he still wanted to be married tomorrow.

"Great thanks. The bed is really comfortable. I love my room. Thank you again for letting me stay a while. What are you two doing today?" Ayla asked.

Angie replied amicably, "We have nothing planned. We thought we could show you the way to get to the hospital. Then maybe go for a drink and something to eat later. Whatever you want to drink or eat just take it. Come, I´ll show you where the things are in the kitchen."

At last Alan got to rub his balls as Ayla and Angie went into the kitchen. Both came back carrying mugs of tea. Angie handed one to Alan and sat back next to him on the sofa. Ayla sat in the armchair opposite the pair and lifted her legs up underneath her body. There was a tantalising flash of pale blue under the skirt, that Angie noticed, and Alan tried not to.

On Ayla`s insistence the three of them watched the last twenty minutes of the film Angie and Alan had started. Then they all trooped into the next room. Angie had created this room as an office, with a computer, printer and filing cabinets for their personal papers, and also some old case files from the past. There was a huge oak desk that she had found at an auction, complete with a matching swivel chair with padded red leather seat and back rest. The walls were covered in photos of their time with DWOB including some of Syria, and even one with Hameed smiling between the two of them.

Ayla studied all of the photos as Alan warmed up the computer. A quick few taps on the keyboard and he had the optimum route to the hospital filling the screen. There were also bus stops marked, and Alan told the watching girls, "This is perfect. The number 18 stops outside the Three Feathers, and also outside Carshalton Hospital. The ride is about 20 minutes, so not too bad. They run from five in the morning until midnight. That should cover all your shifts Ayla!"

"Sounds good Alan," she said leaning forward onto the desk next to him, studying the computer screen. Angie, who was standing on the other side of the desk got an eyeful of her small firm breasts as the top of the loose T-shirt fell forward exposing them to Angie`s view.

"We can go to the pub later, and Angie and I will show you the bus stop. It's only a five- or six-minute walk to there."

"I have to be there at nine on Monday for an initiation day. Issuing of uniforms, paperwork, and a tour of the premises. Things like that. Then we get our shift plan for the next month, and our ward allocations. The rest of this month are training days in the classroom. So that will be from eight until five probably. Monday to Friday they said in the letter they sent me."

"Anybody hungry?" Angie asked as Robert powered down the computer.

"Starving!" Ayla declared with a smile.

"I can eat," Alan said with a grin. Angie knew that he was always hungry.

Angie spent the next few minutes at the stove frying bacon, sausages and eggs, whilst Alan made toast in the toaster and piled it up on a plate. Ayla sat at the kitchen table watching. Angie had a furtive peek to make sure she had not missed any incriminating evidence of their earlier coupling, which had occurred in exactly the spot where she was sitting.

Alan laid the table with salt, pepper, and both brown sauce and tomato ketchup. It was only when Angie laid the plate in front of Ayla she remembered something and she gushed, "Oh my God Ayla. I`m so sorry, I just didn`t think. I can make you something else, here give me that back." She went to remove the plate, but Ayla laughed loudly and placed a hand over hers.

"Don`t be silly Angie. I eat everything. I`m definitely not a practicing Muslim, and I love a good sausage. If you know what I mean." She gave Angie a salacious wink that could only be interpreted in one way.

The rest of the meal was eaten with Ayla asking questions about the local area. Best place to shop for clothes, places to eat. Cinemas. Apparently she loved going to the Movies. Best areas for jogging. It seemed that Ayla was an avid runner, so at last she and Angie had something to discuss. This discussion about running shoes, local jogging routes, and other things that bored Alan half to death went on long after he had filled the dishwasher and gone into the lounge to watch TV alone.

Alan heard the two girls go up the stairs together. Ten minutes later they came into the lounge and announced they were going for a run and that they would see him later. Angie was in her usual short, shorts and Sports bra. While Ayla had kept her T-shirt from earlier, but replaced the micro skirt with shorts similar to Angie`s.

Alan heard the back door slam shut as they left and snuggled down into the sofa for a quick nap. He woke with a start as the backdoor opened. The lounge was then invaded by two sweating females who were breathing heavily from their exertions and giggling like two schoolgirls. Both had their hair sticking to their faces with perspiration. A sheen of sweat covered their trim bodies. The light grey T-shirt that Ayla wore was now a darker shade and plastered to the firm breasts beneath that Alan noticed gave such a perfect moulding of her tits that he couldn`t help but stare at them.

"Have fun ladies?" he asked, trying not to look at the two sweaty bodies without becoming extremely horny, and failing miserably.

"Was great," Angie told him, her breath coming in pants. "We did a double loop of the park and lake, nearly seven miles."

"It`s really beautiful up there," Ayla added, "It`s hard to believe we are in London."

"I need a shower!" Angie announced, "I must stink!"

The two women went up the stairs together. Alan stayed where he was. Normally he would have followed Angie upstairs after her jogging, as for some reason that still remained a mystery to him she was always in a hyper sexy mood afterwards. This usually resulted in a nice blow job or hand job when she got out of the shower, and on a few rare occasions a long fuck session in the bed. He was still reminiscing about a few of those occasions when the lounge door reopened and Angie asked, "Aren`t you coming?"

Alan mumbled, "I didn`t think I was invited this time as we have company."

"Don`t be a wanker Alan. Ayla will be in the shower for a while and I`m horny as fuck, so get you magnificent dick upstairs now!"

The two nearly sprinted up the stairs. When they reached the landing they could hear Ayla humming to herself in the little bathroom attached to her bedroom. Her bedroom door was open, and Angie crossly thought, "Why does she never shut the fucking door!" Her shorts and T-shirt were in a pile on the floor with the pale blue bikini panties on the top of the pile.

Angie saw that Alan was staring at the pile so roughly grabbed him by the arm and tugged him through their bedroom door and closed it behind them. "Take your clothes off and sit there. I will just be a minute," she told him like some stern headmistress with an unruly child.

Alan did as he was told and heard the shower running in the bathroom. Then the water stopped, and Angie walked into the bedroom. She hadn`t towelled herself off even a little, and was dripping water onto the carpet as she straddled him, kissing him passionately at the same time as her hand was fumbling his erection inside her wet pussy.