Grace and Owen
Chapter 5

Copyright© 2016 by Uncle Jim

Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 5 - Grace meets Owen in a snowbound cabin after escaping pursuers in a snow storm and becoming lost. Owen has also escaped those chasing him in a separate storm. Problems crop up at the cabin that require them to work together to solve them, but the question that remains is where they will go and what they will do when the storm is over.

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Rape   Magic   Lesbian   Heterosexual   High Fantasy   Science Fiction   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Big Breasts   Prostitution  

Grace resumes the narrative:

The Trip:

We had been walking away from the cabin for about ten minutes. I know that Owen had looked back once, but I hadn’t. I was afraid of what I would see. Actually, I was afraid of what I wouldn’t see, as I was sure there was no way to return. The change when it happened, was like passing through a curtain.

We had been walking along a dirt road past fields with just a bit of snow remaining on them, when between one step and the next, we were suddenly on a city street with buildings all around us. We both stopped where we were and looked around. There was city in all directions, even behind us, and there was no trace of where we had been just a step previously. I heard Owen inhale, and I took a breath not realizing that I had stopped breathing.

“I wonder where we are?” Owen asked cautiously, and I again looked around us before recognizing the building across the street from us. It had changed only slightly from the engraving that I remembered seeing in one of our school books many years ago, it was Independence Hall!

“That’s Independence Hall, so this must be Philadelphia,” I told him. I could see that it was a couple of minutes past 8:00 in the morning according to the clock on the Tower of the Hall. There was also more snow on the ground here than there had been at the cabin today in addition to the temperature being a bit colder.

“Do you know anything about Philadelphia?” he asked next.

“No, but we can find someone to ask. What do we want to do first?” I asked.

“We should find the train station first, and see when the trains leave for Savannah,” he told me.

“Is that where we want to go?” I asked in an unsure voice.

“I believe so, for starters anyway. From my reading at the cabin, I learned that there is a lot of fancy iron work in Savannah, plus it’s a port, so my inclination is to start there. Do you have another destination in mind?” he finished.

“No, that sounds like a good starting point. I had a funny dream last night about someplace named Statesboro, but don’t remember most of it,” I told him.

“We can check on its location when we reach Savannah,” he agreed, before turning to see who we could ask about the train station. There was a newsboy selling papers just up the street at the corner.

“Let’s try the paper boy, they usually know their way around,” he suggested, as we continued up the street.

“Paper, Mister?” the boy asked, as we approached him.

“Yes, I’ll take a paper. I also need some information,” Owen told him.

“You new here?” the boy asked looking at our clothes.

“Yes, we arrived a short time ago,” I told him.

“We’re looking for the train station,” Owen told him.

“Which one?”

“There is more than one?”

“Yeah, several, where are you going?”

“We’re going to Savannah, Georgia.”

“You want the Pennsy then, they have trains going south. You’re on Chestnut Street at South 6th Street. You want to go one block north to Market Street, and then walk out to 15th Street where City Hall is. The Broad Street Station is across from City Hall, you can’t miss them as both are huge,” the boy finished with a smile.

“Thank you. Here is a nickle for the paper and another for your help,” Owen told the boy, who smiled big time on receiving the money. I took the paper since Owen had his hands full already.

We went up 6th Street a block and turned onto Market Street. It was some nine or ten blocks to the station, but it was early yet and there wasn’t that much snow on the sidewalks or the street. It was cold, but not too windy at present, and the walk warmed us up.

It was easy to tell when we reached City Hall as it is huge just as the paper boy had said. We continued past it looking for the train station. It wasn’t hard to find. As large as City Hall was, the Broad Street Station was just as large, not only in height, but in length and it was nearly as wide.

“That’s a train station?” I asked on first seeing it.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Owen asked, “They probably have the Railroad’s offices in there also,” he added. As we moved closer, we could see that there were Porters outside helping those arriving with their luggage, and Owen stopped one.

“Where do we purchase tickets?” he asked the man who directed us to the correct entrance.

It was warmer inside, and there were a great number of people present. Some were sitting on the benches, and others were in line at the various windows where tickets were sold. There were signs above the windows indicating various destinations, and we kept moving down the line of windows, but didn’t see one that indicated our destination. Owen finally stopped another Porter to ask him about Savannah.

“Where can we purchase tickets for Savannah,” he asked, and the man directed us to the correct window.

“What is your destination?” the Ticket Agent asked when we reached the window which had a very short line.

“We’re going to Savannah, Georgia,” Owen told him.

“When do you wish to leave?”

“As soon as possible.”

“Coach or Pullman?” the Agent asked next.

“What is the difference?”

“Coach is cheaper, but you have to sleep in your seat. You’ll probably want that as the Pullman is a bit more expensive, but there are beds that are made up for you at night by the Porters for you to sleep on,” he informed us in a somewhat condescending voice.

“We’ll take the Pullman then,” Owen told him.

“Single seat or section?” was his next question.

“What is the difference?”

“A single seat with an upper berth is cheaper. A section includes four seats and both the upper and lower berths. It’s usually selected by families. There is more space for luggage and additional blankets and pillows if you don’t use the upper berths,” the Agent explained patiently, but it was evident that he didn’t think that we could even afford single seats, probably because of the way that we were dressed, which was not as well as many of those present.

“Section?” Owen asked turning to look at me.

“Yes.”

“We’ll take the section on the Pullman,” Owen informed the Agent who seemed quite surprised.

“The Pennsylvania will take you as far as Richmond. Your cars will be shifted to an engine from the Atlantic Coast Line there. You won’t need to disembark,” the Agent told us as he began stamping our tickets to indicate the things that we had agreed to.

“Very well, that’s four seats and the Pullman addition. That will come to... ,” and he named a sum that seemed extravagant to me, but Owen pulled the money out of his pocket and paid the man without any hesitation. The Agent seemed very surprised, as he handed us our tickets.

“You will be traveling on train number 40. It leaves on track number 12 at 12:30 this afternoon,” he informed us, as he handed Owen his change, but we had another question for the Agent.

“Is there somewhere that we can leave our bags until we are ready to board the train?”

“Yes, there is a baggage storage room just down the hall. Show them your tickets, and there will be no charge, sir,” he assured us with a smile and a better attitude. We walked down to where he had indicated, and a helpful man there took our two bags and gave us a receipt for them. Owen still held the satchel with the money in it.

“Why are we leaving our bags here?” I asked before we turned away.

“We need some better clothes,” he told me and pointed to some of the other people waiting for their trains. They all appeared to be much better dressed than we were, and it made us look like poor relatives from the country side.

“All right,” I agreed, and we set out for the entrance again. Once outside, Owen approached a man who appeared to be in charge of the Porters.

“Is there someplace nearby where we can purchase some better clothes?” he asked.

“Yes, there are shops on Market Street and Broad Street that sell clothing,” we were assured. We had come up Market Street, and I didn’t remember seeing any clothing stores near here.

Within a few blocks on Broad Street, we found a shop selling ladies clothing. Inside, I looked at some of the dresses. They were very modern and fashionable, but not overly expensive. I chose one and also got some underthings and stockings plus a new pair of shoes. Owen had also picked out a new and warmer coat for me. Again he paid for the new clothes, and I was able to change into them in the store. The clerk wrapped the other thing and my old clothes and put them in a shopping bag for us.

Several shops down the street was a men’s clothing store where Owen was able to purchase a suit, underthings, socks, a hat, and an overcoat. He also purchased a pair of shoes to replace his boots. He too was able to change into his new clothes in the store and the salesman wrapped his other items and his old clothes before placing them in a stout paper shopping bag with the store’s name on it.

It was now a bit after 10:30 by the store’s clock, and we would need to return to the station soon.

“We should eat before boarding the train,” Owen told me after we had left the men’s shop.

“Where?”

“I saw a place on the way here, and they should be open by now,” he told me as we headed back toward the station. We soon came to a small restaurant, which seemed to serve mostly coffee and pastries at this time of the day, but on inquiring, we learned that there were sandwiches available. We ordered two sandwiches and two mugs of tea. When they arrived, the sandwiches were huge ... certainly much larger than I had expected, and I was only able to eat a part of mine. Owen finished his and the remains of mine also. Additionally, he ordered some pastries to take with us.

We hurried back to the station then and reclaimed our bags. Fortunately, we managed to squeeze the new additions and our old clothes into them, and still close them without too much trouble. There wasn’t a lot of time left now, and we asked another Porter where the gate to track number 12 was located. It was on the other side of the large open waiting area, and we made our way through the crowd that was even larger now than it had been earlier. There weren’t many people waiting at the gate for track 12 when we arrived there to wait.

At noon sharp, the gate was opened, and a conductor made an announcement.

“Now boarding, The Atlantic Coast Line Express for Baltimore, Washington, Richmond, Raleigh, Charleston, Savannah, and the Florida Resorts.”

“That’s us,” Owen said, and we joined those moving through the gate and up the stairs to the train shed and the passenger boarding area.

The view at the top of the stairs was spectacular! The train shed where you boarded the trains was several hundred feet wide (actually about 300 feet wide) and perhaps half of that high. It was shaped like a part of a circle and the structural members were exposed. In length, it appeared to be perhaps three times its width, but it was difficult to tell over that long a distance.

There were pairs of tracks that ran down the length of the shed, and there appeared to be seven or eight pairs. Separating the pairs of tracks there were broad paved walkways where the passengers boarded the trains, and luggage or other items were loaded on or off of them.

It was the largest covered area that I had ever seen or imagined, and I stopped and just stared at it for a minute or more while other people moved around Owen and me.

“It does get your attention the first few times that you see it,” an older man said who had stopped beside us.

“Yes, it does that,” Owen agreed, and we stood there for several more minutes gazing at the amazing sight and the people moving about. Finally we began to move also.

 
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