Uncle's Lighthouse

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Chapter 2

They were immediately amazed, and stayed that way until their heads hit pillows her uncle provided.

The interior of the 'fort' as Kit dubbed it, was one huge room, with a kitchen in one corner, the works that turned the light in the middle, a workshop along one whole end, and a bed in the other corner.

One bed.

There was one chair in the workshop, and one chair by a table in the kitchen.

A stone staircase went up one wall and to a trap door in the ceiling, where one of those gabled roof peaks would be. It looked like there was a room up there. When Laurie looked at the other end, where the other peaked roof was, she saw a ladder going to a smaller trap door in the ceiling.

Behind a curtain there was a privy that was piped to dump into the sea. Other pipes brought both cold and heated water into the fort. The heated water was a by product of the boiler that powered the gears that turned the huge mast, which rose up through the tower, and upon which was mounted the Middleton Light.

A system of pipes fed oil to the stove, so no firewood was needed. A pump opererated by a long wooden pole pumped oil up into the top of the tower, where it was used to fuel the fire that made the light.

Uncle Martin worked at night, when the light was needed to warn ships away from the Middleton reefs. That he had been awake in the morning when they arrived was the result of a broken gear that he was repairing. When he had finished that he told them not to touch anything and then went to bed. There were big mechanical shutters that covered the windows, and when he pulled a lever, it became almost as dark as night in the fort.

Laurie and Kit went outside to explore. They found that there was, hidden in the metal binding of both the front and rear doors, a place one could put one's fingers to pull. While the doors COULD be barred from the inside, neither was ever locked, based on the fact that the big planks used for that purpose were bowed and dusty in their storage corners.

There were animals in the barn, and a big ore wagon. There was a draft horse, with a good disposition. There was a milk cow, and chickens, and two cats, though neither of them would permit the youngsters to touch them.

The barn was cut into the hillside, so that the door to the loft at one end was at ground level. They could tell by the tracks, that the wagon was backed up to this door frequently. When they opened the door they saw rows of big wooden barrels, such as Kit had described seeing her Uncle lift single handedly. Laurie bumped one with her hip and bounced off. She rubbed her hip and thought about how strong a man would have to be to lift one of these barrels.

Inside the loft at the other end of the barn there was a large tank, with pipes coming out of it that went through the wall of the barn. They went outside and saw that the pipes went into the wall of the tower. Kit knew there was oil in the barrels and he figured out that they were dumped into the big tank, and that the pipes carried it into the tower to the boiler, and pumps inside.

The rest of the property turned out to be an island, or perhaps a peninsula, depending on how you looked at it. The only connection to the mainland was the road they had come along, and the boulders that lined it.

They went down to the shore. There was no beach, and the waves crashed into the rocks along the shore, sending up huge plumes of white mist and sprays of water. They had fun making a game of trying to scamper away from them to avoid getting soaked. In the end they had to lie out on top of some boulders to let the sun dry them off.

"I surely do wish I had another dress," complained Laurie.

"I only have this one outfit too," commented Kit.

They dozed and then hunger drove them back to the fort. Her Uncle was up, and a pot of chowder was on the boil. He served them both big mugs of the steaming stuff, which was rich with seafood bits. He also had fresh baked bread. He watched as both teens ate with gusto.

"Now," he said. "For my niece, there is housework, and eventually the task of learning the lighthouse keeper's trade. In time you may leave this place ... to marry ... or seek other fortune. Until then, you are a lighthouse keeper's apprentice."

He looked at her, waiting for her response. Her dark eyes stared back at his and she said nothing.

He turned to Kit. "There are animals to be cared for, and supplies of oil to pick up at the docks. The machinery of this place requires frequent repair. I make the parts here in the shop. Are you willing to learn the trade of blacksmithing to earn your keep?"

Laurie looked at Kit curiously. She had no idea what his hopes and dreams were, but he acted like he enjoyed being an outcast. She expected him to laugh and take his leave. Instead, he merely nodded. "I can do those things."

"Good!" boomed Uncle Martin. "You will sleep in the barn, at least for the summer." He pointed at Kit. He began cleaning things off the table.

Laurie said, "What about me? Where am I to sleep?"

Martin turned and said, "It will take time to build another bed. Until then we will have to share the bed. He went to the sink and began washing out the dishes. "AH! See what I do! I am used to doing everything myself. This is my niece's job now."

"Uncle Martin?" said Laurie. She had been looking at the bed. It was large, and there would be plenty of room in it for them to sleep without touching. She wasn't quite sure she wanted to do that, but she also didn't want to refuse his hospitality.

He turned to look at her. She stood up. "My dress ... I have worn it constantly since my things were stolen. I haven't had it off for ... two weeks. I need something else to wear.

He slapped his head. "Of course, I am a fool. We will go to town. There is a dry goods store there and they'll have things ... women's things." He rooted around in a corner. "Until then, perhaps this will do?" he held up an old shirt of his. Two Laurie's could fit in it. He turned to Kit. "And you? You have nothing? No saddle or gear?" When Kit shook his head Martin threw him several shirts too. "I cannot pay you much, but I can buy you some clothes when we go to town. There is an account there, for the lighthouse, and for needs such as these."

Kit said as how he thought that was fair. He yawned and said he was going out to the barn to go to sleep. Martin moved more things and came up with an oil lantern. Kit saw something on a bench and picked it up. It was a book, titled, "Tom Sawyer."

"Can I borrow this?" he asked.

Martin said, "You read?"

Kit nodded.

"Take it," Martin said. "It is newly written by a man I've heard talk about. Most of that talk is unkind. But this story tells me he is wise. When you're done I have more ... many more".

Kit left, the book already open in his hands.

Laurie was holding up one of the shirts he had given her. It was worn, and had holes in it in places. That was no problem. She knew how to sew.

Martin saw her examining the shirt. "You'll have to wash them. I have soap."

She looked up. "Is there somewhere I could ... bathe? I feel so ... filthy."

His face screwed up. "Forgive me, child" he grumbled, "I have lived alone too much in this empty place. I have no manners." He went to the workshop to a large table. He lifted the top, and it came up in his hands. Under it was a big copper tub. "When I installed it, the easiest place to put it was here."

He turned taps and steaming water began to pour into the tub. Laurie's mouth watered at the thought of taking a hot bath.

Her uncle sounded contrite. "You'll have to wash the shirts in the tub too. You don't have to use your bath water, though. There's plenty of water."

He looked around the big room. "If I can get the lumber I can build some walls, I suppose, and a bed for you. Privacy has never been needed here." He turned off the hot water. "You know, your mother and I shared both bed and bath until she went off to get married. It was our family way. Let me get some towels and I'll help you with your bath."

Laurie's mouth dropped open. "But ..." then she stopped.

"But what, child?" he said.

She stamped her foot. "How many times must I tell you I am not a child?"

He looked at her and smiled. "No, you are no child. Don't be angry. It is just a habit ... a way of speaking. Now, do you want this bath or not?"

She itched to be in the water. "Just turn away while I get in."

He did and she tore off the filthy and stiff dress she had worn for weeks. The water was too hot, but she didn't care. She gave a great sigh of relief as she sank down to her neck and leaned back. It was wonderful. She closed her eyes and lay her head back, luxuriating in the feel of warmth that went bone deep.

When she opened them, her Uncle was standing over the tub. She started to be shy, but he had soap in his hand and she felt a rush of almost sexual pleasure at the prospect of being able to scrub her self really clean.

His bass rumble came. "Here, let me wash your hair for you." Laurie leaned forward and suddenly realized the water was crystal clear, and that he could see her naked body clearly. Her hands came up and covered her breasts instinctively. He ignored her and scooped water in his great hands to drop on her head, soaking her and making her sputter. She had to use her hands to get the water out of her eyes.

Then she smelled the soap.

It wasn't the harsh lye soap her mother had made in the big kettle over a fire. This was soap from France, or some other exotic place, that smelled like flowers. His strong hands began rubbing that wonderful soap into her hair. His fingers massaging her scalp felt wonderful and the hot water soothed every ache in her body.

"Now dunk your head," he said.

She had two choices. She could roll to her hands and knees and drop her head into the water, but then her bare buttocks would be exposed. But the tub was big enough for him, which meant she could just scoot forward a little and then lay back, and her head would go under the water. That would make her hair fall to her back when she raised her head up again. But it would also lay her naked body out completely for him to see through the water.

"If I lay back you'll see me," she said, unable to meet his eyes.

"I can see you already," he said.

"You shouldn't look at me Uncle Martin," she felt blood rushing to her face, even though she knew it was already red from the heated water.

"Now why in the world would you say that?" he said.

She was so surprised that she looked right in his face.

He went on. "You're a beautiful woman and your nakedness is something any man anywhere would love to see. I count myself very, very lucky to be able to see your charms."

"But you're my Uncle!" she squeaked.

"Yes, this is true. But I am also a man. Now ... dunk your head."

And so, she ignored her shyness and lay back in the water. Her hair floated out around her face and she felt his hands on her scalp, getting her hair clean.

But what she was thinking about was that her nipples were cold ... where they had broken out of the water and were now right in front of her Uncle's eyes. For some reason that caused a sweet pain ... between her legs ...

He pulled her up with a hand under her neck and her nipples went back in the warm water.

"You tease me," he said. She couldn't tell if he was angry or not.

"No!" she said. "I floated, but it wasn't on purpose."

He smiled through his beard. "I want to dry you."

She was scandalized. "You can't do that!" she yipped.

"Of course I can. I have a towel right here." He held it up.

"But I'm naked!" she moaned.

"Which is why I want to dry you? I want to see you." He was very direct.

"But ... but ... but ..." she watched, unable to do anything as his hand went down into the tub and he pulled the drain.

"Oh no ... please ... I'll just die of embarrassment!" Her foot shot out and she tried to cover the drain with her foot. She couldn't make a good enough seal, though, and the water level dropped lower and lower.

"Please ... don't make me do this, Uncle Martin!" she cried.

He immediately stood up and held out the towel to her. "I would never ... make you do anything against your will, little Laurie." He turned and went across the room. Before she could stand up, or do anything else, the big door opened and then slammed shut as he went outside.

It was getting dark when she put on the oversized shirt he had given her. It left her legs bare, and she felt odd without any underthings on, but it was also amazingly liberating not to have to do up thirty buttons, or tie tens of knots. She felt ... naughty, especially after his so obvious enjoyment of her nakedness.

When he came back in he ate, and they talked about a few things, but his familiarity was gone and he was distant again. He left the table to climb the spiral staircase to the tower and begin his night's work.

Laurie lay in the big bed alone. It hadn't occurred to her that 'sharing' the bed could mean that she'd use it when he was working, and he'd use it while she was up and about. She was used to the noise of the boiler and mechanical things. They were a constant rumble that she could screen out of her consciousness. The linens smelled like ... man. It was an enticing odor for some reason, and she found herself breathing it in deeply, shoving her face in his pillow.

She wasn't sleepy. As her eyes roamed about the room, they lit upon the stone staircase against the wall. She got up, padded to it and peered up at the trap door in the ceiling.

She climbed.

The trap door lifted easily and silently on oiled hinges. There was a room up there, a room that had steep walls that met above her. She realized they weren't walls at all, but were the roof. She stared around curiously.

One end of the room consisted completely of good quality glass windows. They looked out to sea. Laurie stared at the crashing surf, lit by the full moon in the sky. She was astounded by the violence of the waves as they thundered onto the rocks, great silver shining sprays bursting up into the air and white frothy surf flowing between the rocks. The beam of light swept by, above the waves, piercing the night far out from the shore. There was a table by the window that had what looked like some kind of map on it, and a brass spyglass. She looked where she knew a door pierced the roof and went to the bridge that connected the two attic spaces. When she opened it wind rushed in and her shirt fluttered as her hips were bared. Tentatively she took a step out onto what looked like a board walk.

She walked out into the magical kingdom she had dreamed the light might take her to.

She could taste the sea in the air as wind blew her hair back and her shirt was plastered to her breasts. She could hear the thunder of the crashing waves and could see the whole perimeter of the island. The moon shone off the ocean, which went for as far as she could see in the darkness. Somehow she felt the weight of all that water and thought of sailors out there in the dark, floating on some insubstantial chip of wood they called a ship, which could be swallowed whole by the hungry monster that was the sea. She understood now what her Uncle did, and that it was important. The wind whipped between her legs and ruffled her pubic hair, as if it were trying to caress her. The feel of the wind brought an almost frightening sexual urge to her loins and she was confused. She felt small and insubstantial, surrounded by the power of nature.

She almost wished that Kit was here with her. Not for ... sex ... she blushed just thinking that, but to be with her so she wasn't so alone. but he was out in the barn.

Her eyes opened wide as she realized the boy she wanted for companionship was just out back the fort! She whirled and found she could see the barn easily. There was dim light coming from the cracks around the pipes that carried oil to the fort.

She returned to the attic room and her feet flew down the stone stairs. Her feet were tough, and the rough steps caused her no pain. The little door to the back was easy to open and she went out into the night. It was warm here, the wind flowing above her. She could still hear the waves crashing on the rocks on the other side of the fort, but it wasn't as powerful or loud a sound.

The light was still there in the barn, up in the loft. He was awake. Good. She thought about calling out, but with no one around it seemed silly. She had a feeling no one ever came out here to the lighthouse. The door to the barn opened easily and she smelled the odors of barn and animals. The horse lifted his ears and she ran her hand down his muzzle as he tossed his mane. The ladder to the loft was just past the horse's stall. She climbed and her head broke through the opening, making her squint as her eyes were exposed to the light of the oil lantern Kit must be reading by.

But he wasn't reading.

He was standing, bent slightly backwards, with his hips jutting out in front of him. One hand was at his groin, and the other hand was out to his side. His eyes were closed tight and his head was thrown back. His mouth was open, as if he were screaming, but nothing came out of it. All these things she took in as her stunned mind realized he was naked.

The hand at his groin moved and she saw it was wrapped around his penis. His hand slid back and forth along that penis, which was rigid and longer than she would have thought possible. He was doing the same thing her father used to do before he made love to her mother. She looked around for the girl that Kit must be getting ready to mount. But there was no one there but him. She started to call out to him, to ask him what in the world he was doing, but something made her stay silent.

His hand moved faster and he panted, gasped. Suddenly, the tip of his penis ejected a long thin stream of white, like a rope, a piece of string. It was liquid, though, because it arched out and landed on the hay, breaking up and splashing.

She knew he wasn't peeing. With a thrill that made her itch between her legs, she realized it was his seed. He was making love to ... his hand!

Her knees felt weak. Somehow she knew that if he found out she was there he would be angry. She didn't want to drive him away. He was the only other person she could talk to. So she silently climbed back down and retraced her steps to the barn door.

She opened it and then slammed it shut, calling "Kit? Are you here Kit?" She heard what might have been a muffled curse and his voice came back. "Up here." She went to the ladder and started up. "I'm coming up," she said.

"No! Wait!" he yelled. "I'm not decent."

She kept climbing. "Nonsense," she said. "I've seen a man before. We're friends. We don't have to stand on ceremony." Had he not been frantically fumbling for something to cover his nakedness with, he might have thought about how this prim and proper girl had suddenly become less prim and much less proper.

Her head cleared the hole again and he stood there with another of Uncle Martin's old shirts bunched up covering his genitals.

"Oh!" she pretended to be shocked. "You really aen't decent, are you?! I'll just turn my back." She climbed on up into the loft and faced away from him.

When he told her it was OK, she turned. He looked funny in the oversized shirt, like a little boy in his father's shirt. She realized she looked the same way.

"Aren't we a pair," she said, holding out the shirt from her body, like it was a dress.

He gawked. "Laurie! I can see your legs!" he gasped. His reaction to her display of skin was different than she had expected it to be. She had expected him to leer, but he actually acted like a gentleman!

"Why Kit ... I do believe you're not really the rough and unsavory character you claim to be! Most men would be trying to see even more of me."

He had been looking everywhere in the loft except at her. But when she said that, his eyes swung around and stayed on her. "Is that why you came up here? To tease me?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"No! Of course not!" she said. "I just wanted someone to talk to. If I had a proper dress I'd be wearing it. I would never tease you Kit. You helped me, you're my friend."

She frowned. He was the second man that night to accuse her of teasing. "I'm not trying to tease you," she insisted, more to herself than to him. "I'll leave if you want me to."

"No!" He stepped toward her, tripped and fell. He slid on the hay and would have fallen through the hole in the floor head first had she not fallen on top of him to stop him. He scrabbled backwards, trying to get his upper body out of the hole. In the process the shirt came up around his waist and she found her face inches from his hard pale buttocks.

"Oh my!" she yipped. She grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled. He rolled and then his penis was exposed, right in front of her. It was half hard, and flopped against his stomach.

"Oh my!" she gasped again. His hands flew frantically to the shirt and tugged and pulled as he sat up until at last he was covered. He looked at her and there was something in his eyes ... a fear ... a horrible fear ... that he had done something wrong and that she would hate him.

Her heart was beating wildly in her chest. She reached out to touch his shoulder and swallowed. "Now who is teasing?" she said it, making it something he didn't have to answer.

Her hand flew to her mouth and covered it. She turned beet red. That guarded look in his eyes leaked away and he laughed, then harder. His laughter was infectious and she joined him.

They found themselves sitting across from each other, on the hay, bare legs tucked under them. They talked for hours.

Finally she was tired. She stretched, unconsciously pushing her unrestrained breasts toward him. When she stood, her bare legs were in front of his eyes again.

He scrambled to his feet, then froze and started to sit back down, but it was too late. His penis was hard again, and it pressed outward, making the shirt tent away from his loins. Blood rushed to his face as he saw her look down and see what his penis was doing.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, head down.

She could sense his shame, his vulnerability. Any proper woman would be scandalized by the evidence of his passion. But Laurie decided she didn't want to BE a proper woman right now. He was nice. He was polite. He didn't force himself on her when it was obvious he wanted her. She felt a rush of joy as she realized she was desirable to TWO men.

That rush of joy caused her to do something she'd never have thought of doing only a few days past.

She hugged him, letting that stiff penis press into her own body and whispered back, "You have nothing to be sorry for. I take it as a compliment." She pushed him away and said, "Good night sir." Then she grinned, to lessen the formality of her comment and she climbed down the stairs.

When she was back in her Uncle's big good-smelling bed she thought about what she'd seen. What was he thinking about when he stroked his penis and made his seed come out? As she remembered that she felt that itch between her legs again. She decided that from now on she wasn't going to concentrate so much on being a proper lady.

Not around the lighthouse, anyway.

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