She nodded and reached up to touch my split lip. "You need a bit of stitching," she said, her eyes crinkling. I could smell her and found myself aroused. Her eyes were dark, her mouth generous, lips cracked and dry. As usual after a fight, I was erect, straining my codpiece, my member straight up against my belly, but I was trying to ignore it.I became aware of a conversation behind me and soon was being dragged back to my post while the three dead men were carted from the field like so many bags of grain. Somebody brought me a bucket of water after my chain was refastened, and I rinsed off my face, drank my fill and dumped what was left over my aching head. The cut at my eyebrow dripped blood in my eye now and then, but my cheek scabbed quickly. My lip continued to swell until I felt lop-sided. My ribs were sore and my hands ached.Refreshments were brought to the crowd that surrounded the pitch on three sides, and all of us waited for the second act. I looked about and found the. ”“Jar’s right. Dad and I prepared and sent a letter to stop that. We found last night that some of the people let through were not media but independent paparazzi. Those people can be dangerous and are easily mimicked by terrorists or other ilk.”He said, “You both seem okay.”“Yes, but we are pretty capable of taking care of ourselves in bad situations. We will protect ourselves and our property.”Pastor Dean went on to other matters namely our vows and wedding related matters. We spent a relaxing and enjoyable forty minutes. After a closing prayer, we left for Jam’s parents’ house and supper. I noticed a news van on the street. I also noticed that no one set foot on the Madison’s property. The house was set well back from the road. The newsies didn’t even try to shout out to us. We ignored them and went inside.Mister Madison was smiling grimly. “Hello, Jar, Son. No one bothered you, did they?”“No, Sir.”“No, Sir. They didn’t even shout at us.”Mister Madison said, “That’s good. I went.
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