This is part of an ongoing series. If you are new, start here:
https://www.literotica.com/s/measuring-my-cum-ch-16
Victoria
While I tried to calm down Victoria, I couldn't but notice a few things.
First, the red of her hair was natural. It wasn't a mermaid-comes-alive fiery red, and not a I-can-hide-between-carrots orangey red, but a deep chestnut brownish red that started at her scalp, with no signs of the roots having another colour.
Her clothing, that seemed typical for a soon-to-be-nurse to me, reeked... smokey? Not like she was a smoker, but like she had come from a garden party where she had manned the grill.
And its bagginess did a good job of hiding her curves. Not that I had any intention to find out soon, but it felt a lot like when I was cuddling with one of my elder women.
So I kept my arms around her and let her cry.
When two additional pairs of arms were wrapped around us I focused shortly on Marge and Jean, but their reassuring looks let me keep my deed.
After a while, the sobbing turned into sort of a hic up. "I... I'm sorry... but..."
"
Shhhhh
" came from Jean.
"It's all right, sweetie," added Marge.
I silently moved my hand and started stroking her silky hair.
When the tears had finally ebbed, we relocated to the kitchen, where a light dinner was waiting.
"Eat if you can, Victoria. I'll bring Jacob up to speed," my mother said while sitting her at the table.
While I absentmindedly ate my fill, I learned that our guest had come into her library to look up information after she had come home from nursing school only to find her home, that she shared with her parents, at the center of an inferno that was bravely fought by firefighters. With no other relatives nearby and nothing but her backpack from school at her hand, her first instinct was to find a bed to sleep, which the librarian intercepting her (i.e. my mother) generously offered under her own roof.
"You mean..." I whispered, confused.
"She could sleep in your bed, you're not using it anyways," came the practical answer.
"And my... cure?"
"We try to keep it low," assured my aunt.
A loud
thump
made us aware that the heroine of the little tale had fallen asleep.
"Poor girl, she must be exhausted. I'll clean the table, and you and Jacob get her to bed, Marge."
"Thank you Jean. Can you carry her, Jacob?"
So I picked her up and placed her on my bed, where I helped peel her smoked outer layer off her. Underneath she wore plain white underwear, which we left on her while tucking her under the blanket.
"Mom, do you think your clothes would fit her? As far as I understood, she only has what she put on this morning..."
"Yes, I think the same. Let me get something, and then we better leave her alone."
After providing her with a change of clothes left on a chair, we retreated to the main bedroom. Since Jean had fulfilled her duty at the clinic, Marge rode me slowly until she got her fill. Afterwards, we fell asleep.