<div class="floatleft">(https://0themastercylinder0.files.wordpress.com/2020/01/740full-sybil-danning-2.jpg?w=384)</div><hr/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 16pt;"><strong>MARTA LINDGREN | 25 | NURSE </strong></span><hr/><br/>Marta felt her cheeks flush a bit from the ex-soldier's praise, "Oh, well, I...I should have done more," she managed after a moment.  But she wasn't sure anyone noticed, as Lt. Walker himself was already discussing arrangements.  She was pleased that they wouldn't have to try to cram in to the Vauxhall with all their luggage.  But to a hotel?  Not to Professor Smith's residence?<br/><br/>Before she could ask a question, her eyes caught the familiar forms that were past the one-eyed man.  Her carriage stiffened as if she'd been slapped and her face briefly paled again.  Doctor Brockman?  Here?  Even in her own mind, she added his title, her medical training, her manners, and the kernel of respect that she had for the genuine good he had done her all demanding so.  Even when she thought the worst of him, he was still Dr. Brockman.  Oh, God.  It was too soon.  Too soon to see him.  To be reminded of her mad-of her illness.<br/><br/>Fortunately, she was distracted from what might have been a panic attack by disgust and anger.  And more jealousy than she would ever admit to herself.  The Demalure woman was<em>with</em>him?  That whore?  And of course Dr. Brockman was chatting her up.  He must have sensed the looseness of her morals and her skirts, the rake!  Her hands clenched and she sniffed, trying to dismiss the thoughts that rose up in her mind.  Of the beautiful redhead, breasts bouncing, head back, eyes bright as she rode the Professor's stout manhood, her hands perched on his extended belly.  The lovely woman standing up with a smile, the academic's seed streaked all over her face.  Disgusting!  Dirty!  ...Yet she'd looked so...like it had felt...and she was so beautiful.  How would she look on top of...<br/><br/>Marta closed her eyes, swaying just a hair on her feet and swallowed. She shifted to rub her thighs together under her ankle length skirt.  This...would be a difficult trip, it seemed.  As she could hear Richard saying that the two of them were also the Professor's guests.  Oh!  What was the man playing at?  And why bring back his strumpet if he had sent her away?<br/><br/>When she opened her eyes, Lt. Walker was looking at her.  She made herself smile, "No need to apologize for the Professor, Lieutenant.  We both know him well enough to think that this wouldn't be worth an apology, and it's no fault of yours."  She took a deep breath, "It is...fortunate, after a fashion, that we are all apparently here at once.  I, ah, I will wait for the rest of you at the car then.  Best not to clutter up the path."  She turned and in what was in no way a retreat, made her way back to the Vauxhall.  Her hands reached out to grasp one of the doors and she allowed herself a moment or two to lean on the vehicle and bow her head.