Rodney's Toy Shop

So when you've been a successful entrepreneur, built a company from scratch and then sold it, setting yourself up for a very early retirement at age fifty, set for the rest of your years moneywise, what do you do with the rest of your life? That was my situation. I had more money than any divorced man needed. I'd used a chunk for various charities, set my kids up with college and trust accounts that would provide safety nets for their entire lives, and even given a chunk to my ex, as if she really appreciated the gesture. After all that, I still had more money that I knew what to do with.

I'd spent my entire life working, either at work or doing one of my hobbies, and I just didn't know how to NOT work! After a year fishing, hiking, camping, traveling around the country sightseeing, doing all those things I always said I'd do when I retired... well I was bored. So I did the only thing someone like me knew to do. I started another business.

Unlike my first business, designed to grow and make money, this one was designed to be FUN! I loved gunsmithing since I was young. I loved to disassemble, work on and even modify firearms of all kinds. So it was just natural for me to set myself up with a machine shop, a storefront and of course, a massive indoor shooting range to test my work. What started out as my hobby on steroids, turned into another successful business. I'd already hired a total of five people to help me run the place. I bought and sold new and used firearms, but preferred the unique or classically old. This afternoon I was busy reconditioning a seventeen hundreds vintage flintlock. I'd been at it for days, carefully disassembling and going over its mechanism with a fine tooth comb. I was putting the final touches on a replacement piece that I had to custom machine before heading home to make some dinner when I heard the storefront door chime ring.

I glanced down at my watch and frowned. It was already well past closing time so all I could assume was that Eddie forgot to lock the door on his way out. I wiped the machine oil off my hands with a rag as I walked out of the shop into the storefront. Standing at the counter were two women. The older of the two was tall, good looking and quite curvacious. Her shoulder length brown hair was done in long fat curls that made me think she was used to frequent visits to the beauty parlor. Through the glass case she was standing in front of, I could see she was wearing a short skirt that matched the light orange blouse that was unbuttoned nearly half way down, exposing a significant amount of creamy cleavage. The other, a somewhat younger woman was nearly a clone of the first, clearly a much younger sister or more likely daughter. Unlike her mother, her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her dress, even shorter than her mother's, was a navy blue wrap around type, also exposing quite a bit of cleavage, though not nearly as much as her mother.

In front of them they had laid a fairly tricked out AR15 style firearm.

"Hello. What can I do for you two today?" I asked politely, reasonably sure that they were looking for a repair or to sell the AR.

"I understand you buy used guns?"

"If they're interesting." I answered with a nod. "You want to sell this one?" I asked as I stepped to the glass display case and looked down at what I could see was a Bushmaster .223 AR variant.

"I'll be quite up front with you. I've been to a pawn shop, but they didn't want to give me anywhere close to what it's worth. They suggested maybe you'd be able to help us?"

I hefted the gun off the display case top, quickly checking the chamber before examining the rest of the weapon. It had all sorts of goodies added, four sided rail front grips, flashlight and aiming laser, night vision scope and adjustable length stock. All in all a pretty nice package. "So how much do you want for it?"

I could see a pained look on her face before she answered. "MY husband got that for us for protection, but right now we need the money more than the protection. He paid about three for it."

I frowned and shook my head. "Have you ever even shot it?"

"Once," she admitted quietly.

"It's really not worth that much. I'm afraid your husband paid way more than what it's worth. If I were you, I'd have your husband take it back and try and get his money back," I said shaking my head slowly.

"We can't. My husband isn't with us anymore," she answered quietly.

"Oh. I'm sorry," I apologized, feeling a bit bad at the comment I'd just made. "Tell you what. Let's go in the range and see how it shoots and then I'll see how much I can do."

"I'd really appreciate that," the mother said quietly. "By the way, my name is Elaine."

"Hi Elaine. I'm Rodney," I said as I turned and walked the few steps to one of the ammo shelfs and pulled a box of good quality .223 rounds off of it.

"Well, I guess that explains the name, Rodney's Toy Shop," she answered with a smile.

"Yeah. It's kind of like playing with toys," I chuckled in reply as I snapped the first of three rounds into the magazine. Once I had it loaded, I pushed it into my pocket and picked the weapon up off the showcase. "Come this way and we'll see what it does," I said, leading the way from behind the counter, across the shop to the door that led into the range. I flicked on the switches, flooding the two hundred foot long range with light as soon as I stepped through the door. I led them to the rack of hearing protection, handed each of them a pair of foam earplugs and then stepped to the first shooter's booth. I dug into my own pocket for my electronic ears and pushed them into my own before slapping the magazine into place.

"Shooting!" I shouted to the empty range out of habit before pulling the charging handle on the AR. I felt the bolt snap back into place with the muted thump that meant it had carried a round into the chamber and then lifted the weapon to rest it against my shoulder.

"BANG! BANG! BANG!" The weapon sounded as I fired the three rounds down the range at a target that was hanging near the far end. I used the scope to look at the grouping, pleased that even free hand the whole group was less than an inch separated. "Shoots well. Nice and smooth action, though a little stiff. Clearly hasn't seen much use at all. Tell you what. With the night vision scope I can do, oh, two on it"?

"Two thousand? Are you sure you can't do more? We really, really need the money!"

"I'd like to do more. I could maybe go as much as twenty-two hundred, but that's really all I can do."

"I guess if that's all you can do," she said quietly.

"But mama. We NEED three. At least until the insurance decides what they're going to do." The daughter said from behind her mother.

"I know sweetie. But I don't know where we can get the rest. The only thing I have left is my wedding ring and I'm not going to hock that!"

I wasn't sure exactly what the issue was, but clearly they were at the end of their money and were trying to get over some hump waiting for insurance money. I've had friends pass away and knew all too well that sometimes the life insurance could be slow coming. I was still thinking about how I might be able to help them when the daughter stepped past her mother and looked right at me. "So what would it take to get to three thousand?"

"Huh?" I asked in surprise. "The gun just isn't worth that kind of money," I said, shaking my head.

"So, maybe there's something else? Some other way to boost the price?" she asked, stepping another step toward me. "Something we can throw in to help things in our favor?"

It took half a dozen seconds before it sunk in to me and her mother what she was suggesting.

"EMILY!" her mother almost shouted.

"What?" her daughter asked back over her shoulder. "We need the money right? Unless you wanna hock your ring, it's all we have left that will get money quickly. It's not like we can sell the car or the house."

"No. We can't do that, at least not that quickly," her mother admitted quietly.

"Well. This is the only other thing I know to do," her daughter said with an exasperated huff.

"Look. If you need the money that badly, I'm sure I can see my way clear to get you three," I said, shaking my head in wonder at the daughter's apparent willingness to sell her body.

"No. We don't do charity," the daughter, Emily, said sharply. "We pay our debts!"

"I wasn't suggesting charity," I said defensively, knowing damn well that was exactly what I'd suggested.

"No. That's exactly what you suggested. It's not worth three, but you'll give us three because you feel sorry for us. Well, we don't do charity! You wanna give us three, that's fine, but you'll go away feeling like you got a fair trade, not charity!" she said defiantly.

"Look," I said quietly. "You seem like a nice young lady. There are a lot of ways in this world to make money without selling your body. That just isn't right to do."

"Oh? So what? You'll hire us to what, clean up like a maid or something?" she said with a frown. "I'd rather sell my pussy than that."

"EMILY!" Elaine snapped. "Please forgive her. She can be a bit strong headed sometimes."

"I understand. My own girls were like that. I can also understand her resistance to charity. Tell you what I can do. And no, it won't be charity," I added as Emily started to open her mouth to protest. "I have some work you two can do. If you wanna come by tomorrow, I can set you up and in a day the two of you can earn that extra money. How's that sound?"

"Sounds good, except we need that money first thing in the morning. Can we work tonight?" Emily suggested.

I thought about it for half a dozen heartbeats. I wanted to reward her willingness to fend for herself and not accept what she considered charity, and at the same time I wanted to help them, well because I could. I certainly had enough money to do it. "Okay. Come with me," I said, turning and walking toward a small storeroom in the corner of the range. I opened the door to the room and turned on the light. "This is my brass room," I said as they stepped into the room and looked at the buckets set at an angle in a rack on the wall. Each of these are labeled with the caliber and type of brass. And these," I said turning to a stack of nearly twenty five gallon buckets along one wall, "are full of brass that needs to be sorted. We sweep it all up together and then have to separate it by hand. I'll give you two hundred dollars for each bucket of mixed brass you sort."

"That seems like an awful lot of money for sorting some old bullets," Emily answered.

"Trust me, you'll earn it. You sort as much as you want and then I'll pay you for it. I'll also give you the twenty-two hundred for the Bushmaster. Does that sound fair?"

"That sounds very fair," Elaine said from behind her daughter.

"Good. Here's some rubber gloves," I said handing them a box of industrial strength nitril gloves to protect their hands from lead contamination. I pulled one of the buckets from the pile and set it on the floor in front of the rack and pulled the top open, exposing collected used brass inside. I stepped back and let them step in, while they pulled gloves on. I stood back and watched as they dug their first handfuls of brass out of the bucket and started sorting them into the five gallon buckets on the wall. "Have you eaten yet?" I asked as they stood and tossed brass into the various buckets after looking at the end to read the caliber and match it with the label on the various buckets.

"No. Not yet. We were planning on getting some food after we took care of the rifle," Elaine answered as she tossed another nine millimeter round into the appropriate bucket.

"Well, I was about to go eat myself. If you think you'll be alright here alone, I'll go grab a quick bite and then come back."

"If you want to," Elaine answered.

"Okay. I'm going to turn on the alarm, so if you go into the front you'll set it off. As long as you stay back here you won't have a problem," I said as I turned and started walking away.

"Rodney!" Elaine called across the floor, sticking her head out of the store room. "Thank you for this!"

"Your welcome. I'll be back in a few minutes," I called back before heading into the front of the shop. It wouldn't be a fancy dinner, but it would be food, and I was pretty sure they wouldn't turn down the offering. I mean it's just cheese burgers and fries.

"Hey ladies!" I called as I walked across the shooting range with the bag of McDonald's and a couple cups of ice tea. I stepped into the doorway of the brass room and froze, nearly dropping the drinks and food. They were still there working, but Emily was standing in a lace bra and thong panty that left damn little to the imagination and her mother wore nothing but a tiny white thong panty as she stood sorting brass. Her breasts were magnificently large and full, dropping down on her chest somewhat, her nipples poking out towards the wall of buckets as she tossed another few pieces of brass into a bucket. "Holy shit." I mumbled as I stood and stared at them.

"Oh shit!" Elaine cried, dropping the brass in her hand back into the bucket and grabbing for her blouse, which was laying on the stack of buckets against the wall. As she turned and tried to cover her breasts with the thin material I could see both of her breasts shaking and wiggling as she moved. "I didn't expect you back so soon." She finally got out as she tried to cover herself with the shirt.

"Sorry. I just thought you'd like some dinner," I said awkwardly, trying to figure out the best way to extricate myself from the situation.

"Oh mother. Good lord!" Emily said, shaking her head and not even stopping her sorting. "You act like you're completely naked!"

"Well, I am! Almost," Elaine answered her daughter. "It's easy for you to say, you still have a bra and panties on."

"It's not my fault you didn't wear a bra," she answered back.

"Well when I dressed I didn't expect to be taking my clothes off, did you?"

"No, but that doesn't mean anything. If it makes you feel any better, I'll take my bra off too."

"Oh lord," Elaine muttered.

"I'll just leave this," I said quietly, stepping into the room and setting the food down on a bucket of brass. My hand bumped into Emily's bare ass in the tight confines of the room as I turned to leave, drawing a soft giggle from her as I walked out of the room and away.

I walked to my office and plopped down in my chair. I leaned back and closed my eyes, trying to slow my pounding heart and push the image of their near naked bodies from my mind, unsuccessfully I should add. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't quite seem to get the image of her breasts out of my mind, my cock staying rock hard in my pants. Without opening my eyes I dug my hand down into my pants and boxers, moving my cock from its uncomfortable bent position, straightening it to point more upward. Almost without thinking, my mind flashing back to the image of Elaine standing all but naked before me, I opened my pants and pushed the elastic of my boxers down, freeing my hard-on, my hand wrapping around it.

"Damn," I groaned as I absentmindedly stroked my hand up and down my rigid shaft, my mind playing in slow motion the view of her twisting suddenly in surprise, her huge soft tits swinging, their motion continuing when she stopped, each soft, heavy mound trying to wrap around her, stretching her skin slightly before rebounding and swinging back. They clearly would have swung back and forth several times before settling had she not twisted again, reaching for her blouse. In my mind's eye I could see her large round areola, each perched on the front of her breast and covering a good portion of each mound. Her nipples poked out from the center of each pink island, enticingly inviting, drawing my eyes to them like steel to magnets.

I wondered what they would feel like if I wrapped my hands and lips around them or swirled my tongue around each hard nub. I allowed the image to solidify in my mind as I stroked myself, her large soft breasts becoming almost as real in my imagination as the view was only minutes before.

"Ohmygod!" I heard a female voice exclaim, jerking me from my mental fantasy. Elaine and Emily stood, dressed again, in my doorway holding the bag of food. Elaine's eyes were locked on my cock, my hand still wrapped around my long, fat shaft, my brain taking long precious seconds to shift from the sex filled imagination to reality.

"Oh fuck," I grunted in surprise, suddenly trying to stuff my cock into my pants and fruitlessly pull them closed to hide my hard-on.

"Good lord mother. You act like you've never seen a cock before," the daughter said with a scowl aimed at her mother as she pushed past to step into the room. "We realized that when you left the food out there you left yours too, so we thought we'd bring ours and eat with you," she said, pulling a chair around to face the front of my desk and dropped into it.

"Oh. Um. Thank you. Yeah. I guess I did leave it all out there," I mumbled, still trying to cover myself as I slowly softened.

"Nice cock by the way," Emily said, taking the food bag and setting it on the desk, starting to pull burgers out of it.

"Um thanks," I mumbled awkwardly.

"I presume that was because of us out there. It was getting hot and dirty in that little room."

"Yeah. It gets that way," I answered a little louder, glad that the conversation was moving from something other than my dick. "Sorry. I didn't mean to stare, look, whatever."

"It's okay. Guys have seen our tits before," Emily answered, her mother moving to the other free chair in my office and sitting down silently.

"Well. Sorry for startling you just the same," I said as Emily pushed two cheeseburgers and a carton of fries across the desk toward me.

"It's all fine. Though I think my mother was a bit more freaked than I was," Emily said, clearly trying to suppress a grin. "But then her tits were on display more than mine."

"Yeah. They were," I agreed quietly, nervous that the conversation was suddenly shifting back to something sexual.

"She has some fantastic looking tits, doesn't she? I wish mine were that big."

"Um. Yeah," I answered awkwardly.

"You wish mine were that big too?" she asked, raising her eyebrows questioningly. "I could tell you were a tit man, but I didn't think mine were THAT much smaller."

"Uh. I didn't say they were," I answered quickly.

"Oh. That's good," she said, reaching down and pulling the sash around the waist of her dress. She stood up and let the dress unwrap from around her body and slide off her shoulders. The dress had barely hit the chair behind her whenher hands were behind her back, unsnapping the strapless bra that was wrapped around her. The elastic on her bra sprung quickly around her body, launching the lacy support out several inches towards me as it dropped to the floor. She stood on the other side of the desk, almost naked, wearing only her panties and high heels. She leaned toward the desk, resting her hands on it and leaning farther towards me.

"Tell you what. I know you're turned on by us. How about you sweeten the pot if we, oh... maybe sweeten yours?"

"Sweeten mine?"

"Uh huh," she said, pushing off the desk and stepping around it. She moved to where I was sitting, pushed the chair I was in away from the desk and swiveled it to face her. She reached down to my hands and pulled them from my lap where they were covering my still half hard cock. She reached down with both hands and spread my pants again, exposing my cock. She squatted down in front of me, grasping my shaft with one hand and looking at me with a devilish little grin. "Now. Let's see if this tastes as good as it looks," she whispered, maintaining eye contact with me as she leaned her face towards my lap. She opened her mouth and closed it around my head, sucking on it and swirling her tongue around, making my shaft grow quickly in her hand.