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Grace And OwenChapter 6 free porn video
The Stop:
Since we had our bags with us, we didn’t need to wait for them to be unloaded. The Savannah train shed, while large, was not as large as the one in Philadelphia. While walking toward the exit, we heard a man remark to his friend that the waiting room ahead of us was an octagon 80 feet in diameter. From this, it was fairly easy to estimate that the train shed was about twice that wide and maybe five times that long.
When we passed the clock in the waiting room, it indicated that it was just after 8:30 in the morning. There was also a plaque near the entrance to the building stating that the station had opened in 1902. Once outside, we noticed that there was considerable traffic on Broad Street at this time of the morning. We could see horse drawn wagons and carriages, a trolley, and even some of the new horseless carriages.
“Carriage, sir?” one of the Porters there asked shortly after we emerged and were looking around.
“Yes, thank you, is there a hotel near here?” Owen asked.
“There is the De Soto Hotel on Bull Street at Liberty Street, sir, but it’s a bit expensive,” the Porter told us.
“How expensive?”
“Rooms is about $2.50 a night and more. It’s a very fancy hotel, and all of the rich and important folks stays there,” he told us.
“Are there any less expensive hotels?” I asked.
“Yes ma’am, but some of them, you wouldn’t want to stay at. There is the Pulaski House or Hotel. It’s on Bull Street too, but up at Johnson Square. It’s pretty nice and a lot of regular folks stays there,” he told us.
“We’ll try that one,” Owen agreed, as a horse carriage pulled up beside us. The Porter gave him our destination and helped load our bags. Owen tipped him before getting into the carriage with me.
The carriage went up North Broad Street for a good half mile before turning right onto Bryan Street where it went another four blocks before stopping in front of the portico of a huge four story building that cover the entire block that it was on. I noticed that along the street there were many shops that occupied the exterior of the ground floor of the hotel. The driver helped us with our bags before Owen paid him.
According to the clock behind the registration desk, it was just after 9:00 when we entered the lobby of the Pulaski Hotel. Those at the desk seemed surprised to see us.
“Can I help you?” a man behind the desk asked as we approached.
“Yes, we would like a room,” Owen informed him.
“The usual check-in time begins at 2:00, sir,” he told us.
“We just arrived on the train and need someplace to sleep,” Owen told him.
“I can give you a room now, but will need to charge you for half a day plus for a full day for overnight. For the remainder of your stay, it would be just the normal daily rate,” he explained.
“That is agreeable, what is your daily rate?”
“It’s a dollar a day for a double room, sir.”
“That sounds alright. Is there a restaurant near here?” Owen asked.
“There are several fine restaurants within a couple of blocks of the hotel, and we have our own restaurant also. I’ll need you to register,” the clerk replied and passed a large card for Owen to fill out. I noticed that he registered us as Mister and Misses Owen O’Connell from Kentucky.
“How long will you be with us, Mister O’Connell?” the clerk asked on retrieving the card.
“At least two or three days,” Owen replied, as the clerk handed him the key to the room. A bellboy took our bags, but Owen retained the satchel with the money in it.
The room was on the fourth floor and a long way from the elevator, which was the first one that either of us had ridden in. The room had two single beds with a nightstand between them, a small vanity or dressing table with a chair, and a small clothes closet. There was a radiator for heat under the window which looked out on Bull Street. There was a gas ceiling light as well as candles, a candle holder, and matches for additional light on the night stand. In a separate space near the clothes closet, there was a water closet or toilet and a sink. I noticed that the beds had already been made.
“I still need a couple of hours of sleep,” Owen told me after we had checked out the room.
“Yes, I could use a bit more sleep also,” I told him, but was looking at the two beds which were fairly narrow.
“Guess that we’ll have to sleep alone,” Owen said.
“Not if we’re very friendly,” I told him with a smile. We both lost our clothes then and crawled into the one bed. It was a bit tight but after some passionate kissing, we fell asleep in each other’s arms. We awoke several hours later feeling much better.
“What shall we do next?” I asked, as we started to dress in our old clothes having decided to reserve our new clothes for important occasions. Our old clothes smelled surprisingly fresh for all time that we had been wearing them, but we didn’t think about that then. We were also wearing our old shoes, or in Owen’s case his boots. My new shoes pinched, since they weren’t broken in yet.
“I’m ready to eat again, and after that, I would like to get a pocket watch. Keeping track of the time appears to be more important in the city than it does out in the country where we grew up,” he told me before pausing for a time as if to gather his thoughts.
“It occurs to me, that we may look a bit out of place carrying this satchel around all of the time, and that it might attract the attention of those who we are trying to avoid. It wasn’t unusual to see us with it while traveling, but while moving around in the city, it would look suspicious,” he told me.
“I certainly wouldn’t leave it in the room, but what can we do with it?” I asked him in a worried voice.
“I’ve heard that some of the better hotels have safes where guests can store their valuables while staying there,” he told me. “I’ll check when we go out to eat. In the meantime, we need to be sure that we have enough money on us for the next several days,” he finished and opened the satchel. After removing the last of the loose money from it, he removed several five dollar bills from their stack and handed them to me.
“What should I do with these?” I asked in amazement.
“Keep them in your purse as a reserve,” he told me as he added a couple of ten dollar bills and some ones to the other money that he kept in his pocket.
Downstairs, we made our way to the registration desk.
“Do you have a safe where guests can store their valuables?” Owen asked the man who we had spoken with earlier.
“Yes, we do. Do you have something that you wish to secure with the hotel?” the clerk asked.
“I would like to secure this satchel while we are here,” Owen told him. The man looked at the satchel and frowned.
“Our normal containers are too small for that. Let me check if there are any larger containers available,” he requested and was gone for a time. Shortly, he returned with another man and a medium size metal box.
“This is Mister Watson, the manager,” the clerk told us.
“This is the largest box that we have for the safe,” Mr. Watson told us, “See if your satchel will fit in it.” The satchel fit but only after being compressed a bit, then manager locked the container and gave Owen the key.
“There will be a charge of $0.10 a day for this size container,” he informed us.
“That’s fine,” Owen assured him. The manager took the container to the back, and after turning in our room key, we went to find dinner and a pocket watch.
We had dinner at a nearby small restaurant. They had food that we were familiar with prepared the same way that I would have made it, rather than how those up north had cooked. It was also good to hear the familiar southern accent of those working there.
It required a good bit longer to find a pocket watch than it had to find the restaurant, but Owen eventually had a very nice timepiece. It wasn’t overly fancy but was very practical. He had found it at a watch repair shop. The repairman told us that a customer had brought it in to be repaired, but had never returned to pick it up. He had held it for six months, but was now selling it. Owen got it for a very good price.
“What’s next?” I asked, as we left the shop of the watch repairman.
“I would like to check out some of the fancy ironwork that Savannah is famous for,” he told me. “Do you have anything that you need to do or need to buy?”
“I would like to get a good hair brush and a comb plus some body powder and a bit of makeup,” I told him.
“Let’s see if we can combine the two,” he suggested, as we set out to look at the various shops in the area. We soon found a pharmacy (Klein’s) that carried what I wanted as well as soaps and perfume, but we had not seen much of the fancy ironwork however.
“We may not be in the right part of town,” Owen suggested on exiting the pharmacy with our purchases, as he had gotten shaving soap, a brush, and a new razor.
“Perhaps a carriage driver can deliver us to the correct area,” he continued as he signaled a passing carriage. The driver knew where we wanted to go, and soon we were afoot again in an area of large elegant houses with a profusion of fancy ironwork.
Over the next three days, we toured Savannah extensively looking at the ironwork. We even passed the De Soto Hotel. It was larger than the Pulaski and very, very fancy, we would not have fit in there. During our travels, Owen pointed out many things to me, explaining how things were made, and also the differences between wrought iron and cast iron.
“Cast iron is much more brittle than wrought iron,” he explained. “It’s made by melting iron in a furnace and pouring the hot liquid iron into molds. When cool, the pieces are removed from the molds and cleaned up as necessary. Cast iron can only be repaired by brazing.
“Wrought iron, on the other hand, is shaped hot with a hammer from preformed iron bars. It can be forge welded from separate pieces of metal, where cast iron is all one piece unless separate pieces have been riveted or bolted together,” he explained. Savannah certainly did deserve its reputation, as it had more fancy ironwork than I remembered seeing anywhere else, even in New York.
There was a problem with all of this fancy ironwork, however, it was all old and on houses and buildings that had been built over many years in the past. New buildings, especially the large, tall business buildings and the many new houses were being built to newer and different styles than the old buildings and used little or no fancy ironwork, and what little they did use was cast iron.
Owen also visited the shops of several Blacksmiths in the Savannah area, and spoke with them at length. It seemed that currently there was little new business for fancy ironwork, and repair work was mostly what they were doing. Also some smiths had needed to turn to working at the port to support themselves. Owen was quite dejected on learning this.
“I had hoped to find a job doing fancy ironwork here, but that doesn’t look possible, and the work at the ship builders and at the port is heavy work done mostly with large mechanical hammers or steam hammers, which I have little experience with,” he explained after seeing the other smiths.
Our time at night was a lot more pleasant. The first night, I took a long hot bath, which was wonderful! Owen’s was somewhat shorter, but just as nice he said. We had also spent long hours hugging, kissing, and having wonderful sex. The hotel staff had cleaned our room daily, and had even had our clothes cleaned overnight.
The Choice:
On the morning of the fifth day here, a Sunday, we needed to have a serious discussion.
“We need to decide what we are going to do,” Owen told me when we had finished dressing in our new clothes. It was only 8:30, and the restaurants wouldn’t be open for an hour or more.
“There doesn’t appear to be that much work for a Blacksmith here. Could you work at some other trade?” I asked.
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