“We’re here.”  Devon said, pulling up outside the quaint suburban home that was their destination, some thirteen miles farther south than he typically accepted.  He looked past his nephew, who slouched low in the seat, fiddling compulsively with one of his gauging tools and mumbling long strings of incomprehensible numbers to himself.  The home was a bright, neon kind of yellow that made the eyes bleed, gone slightly to seed, with an older model economy car in the drive.  He sighed.  It was going to be one of those jobs, he could already tell.  He could feel the frustration, ever boiling near the surface, rising already.  ‘Dear god, please let her be a BIG woman’, he prayed, then turned to face his nephew.  
	“Mind your manners while we’re here, don’t wander off and touch things that aren’t yours, got it?”  There was no acknowledgment, only numbers under the breath.  He rolled his eyes, straightened his clothes, then opened the door.
	As he got out of the rusting pickup truck, the whole vehicle rose several inches, the shocks groaning as his enormous weight was lifted off them, and the door rattled as he slammed it shut.  The vehicle was small for his bulk.  Vehicles made for beasts his size were expensive.  The boy got out on the other side and closed the door with his trunk.  Devon envied his nephew’s finer motor control over his slim, graceful trunk.  These days, his was only good for applying blunt force trauma to stubborn objects.  His giant, flat feet kicked up dust as he crossed the yard, the boy in tow.
	The screen door was only a thin metal sheet.  His attempt at care meant nothing as each gentle knock dented it.  It rattled so fiercely in the hinges that it roused the neighbors to see who was making such a racket.  He didn’t have to endure stares for long.  Even as his nephew listed off dimensions for the door from behind him, the inner one opened.  
	“Hello?”  A robust, upper middle aged female bear with a smirk and ample breasts that were perfectly visible under an inappropriately thin purple robe peered through the screen.  Numbers that sounded suspiciously like plausible height, weight, age and cup sizes floated from somewhere behind and to the left.
	“Hello, Ms….”  Ignoring him, Devon consulted a tiny notebook from in his shirt pocket.  “Tavers.  I’m here about your disposal unit malfunction?”  He tucked the notebook back into the pocket, then back down at her.  She was staring at him, mouth agape in a way that was incredibly thirsty.  He lusted after, then pitied her, and his frustration rose a notch.  Were she a bigger woman, maybe there would have been a chance.  
	“Uh, Ms. Tavers?”  He passed a hand in front of her face.
	“Wha- oh, oh!  Sorry.  Please, call me Cynthia.  And yes, please come in.”  She stood out of the way and held the door open.  He ducked under the door frame and into what for most would’ve been a spacious entry hall, but his head grazed the ceiling.  His nephew followed, mute for the moment, observing and no doubt sizing everything he could see.  Ms. Tavers noticed him sulking in his shadow.  
	“Oh!  I didn’t know you were bringing a little helper!”  In spite of her immediate affectionate attentions, her fussing reeked disappointment.  “Who is this darling young man?”
	“This is my nephew-”
	“He’s not yours?”
	“No.  I don’t see how that matters though.”
	“Of course.”  She said coolly, and went to hug him.
	“I wouldn’t.  He’s on the spectrum.  He doesn’t like being touched, except when he initiates it.  Which is pretty rare, I might add.”
	“I see.”  Cynthia regarded him with pity.  “What’s his name?  How old is he?”
	“Jeffery.  He’s eleven.  I like having him around, he’s more helpful than a graphing calculator.  If you stick around while I work, you’ll see.  Can you show us to your kitchen so we can get to work?”
	“Of course.  Right this way.”
	Cynthia took them through the entry hall to a dusty but tastefully arranged sitting room, to a clean dining room, and into the kitchen.  There was a large floral print towel on the floor in front of the sink, soaking up a slow drip of water from the under sink cabinet.  A large variety of sodden cleaning supplies decorated the counter. 
	“Could I get you boys anything to drink before you start?”  She simpered.
	“I’m good, thanks.  How about you Jeffery?”  
	Jeffery touched the cupboard from which the water was leaking, opened it half an inch, then looked up at them.  “This is thirty-five inches tall by twenty-four inches wide, area eight hundred and forty inches.  You won’t fit inside.”
	“Lets take that as he’s good too.”
	“How on earth does he know it’s dimensions by touching it like that?” 
	“It is as much a mystery to me as it is to you.”
	“He said you won’t fit.  What does he mean?”
	Devon watched the boy open the cupboard and lean inside.  From his height, he couldn’t see what he was doing in there, but the strings of numbers issuing from inside made it easy to guess.
	“My head won’t fit in your cabinet.  I usually fit my whole head in if I’m able, and that’s what he’s used to seeing.  So he has made the assumption, I think, that I need to put my head into the cabinet to work.  But I can work fine without shoving my whole head in.  My arms and trunk are long and strong.”
	“I see,”  Cynthia said, eyeing the crouching boy who was disappearing bit by bit under the sink.  Devon was quite surprised to see how much of himself he had wedged in there in the short time they were talking.  Jeffery was quite large himself, as tall as the woman was, just lanky.  
	“This is three and one half inch forty PVC.”
	“It’s perfectly standard then, that makes things easier.  Out of the way Jeffery.  Let me get in there.”  He turned to Ms. Tavers, “Your house looks a little old, I was worried it might have non-standard parts.  I have some handy, but I can’t stock for every oddity.”  Jeffery extricated himself from the cabinet but remained crouched in front of it, touching things inside.
	“This is eight hundred and forty square inches.  You won’t fit.”
	“Don’t you worry about that.  Come on now, move out of the way.”  Devon placed his toolbox on the counter, scattering cleaning products out of the way and sorted through wrenches for the right one, and set aside aside a few other tools for his nephew to grab quickly while he worked.  Jeffery reluctantly left his place in front of the cabinet, still uttering numbers with interspersed words like ‘circumference’ or ‘length’.  
	“Do you mind if I watch while you work?  I’d be nice to know how to do these things myself.”
	Devon sighed, squatted, and encouraged Jeffery out of the way.  He suspected it was more an interest in his colossal ass than anything she might learn by watching; anything useful would be hidden inside the cupboard.  She must be a size queen to call out the only elephant plumber in the whole county, and desperate to pay the extra to get him to drive all the way out to her little home.  Why couldn’t she have called Henry, his horse buddy, and been done with it?  He would’ve been perfect for a lady like her.  
	Shaking his head, he got on his hands and knees, then laid down on his stomach, smiling and bemused by his nephew’s psuedo-magical ability to gauge and compare.  It was true; he’d not be able to fit his head into the cupboard.  Just another inch or two wider and he might have been able to just squeeze it in.  He put his arms and trunk through the open cabinet and began work.  
	“Wha…?”  Flapping his hands in characteristic distress, Jeffery hovered, uncertain, at his shoulder.  It looked for a moment like he was winding himself up to a minor tantrum, but then dropped into a crouch and studied.  Head cocked, he considered, then reached out and groped Devon’s arms and trunk as he worked.  Jeffery stepped over and around him, laying fingers in odd places and making him uncomfortable, getting in the way, and treating him to an unwanted view of his crotch.   
	“This is four feet, seven inches.  Eleven and seven eighths circumference.”  He pronounced, after a particularly egregious series of gropes of his left arm, followed by a wrist grab and more numbers.  
	“Jeffery!  Stop, stop.  I can’t work with you grabbing me like that, it’s not appropriate.  Here, play with this until I need you.”  He shoved a section of PVC pipe into his hands.
	Jeffery sat on the floor amid the scattered tools and disposal parts and played with the pipe he’d been given.  Occasionally, he glanced at his uncle, or at Ms. Tavers, while fitting the parts of different objects together.  Devon paid him zero attention as he worked, only asking for tools of one kind or another, which he handed over, more often than not, with only minor reluctance.  
	Cynthia followed his lead in ignoring the boy, though he expected it had more to do with her inability to look anywhere other than at his ass.  Every time he caught sight of her, she was staring at it, and had an expression of utter vacancy.  He’d seen that look before; a look that implied a fantasy of holding his fat nuts in her hands and weighing them like produce at the market.  He could see her gauging if she would need both hands to cup them individually or not in her mind’s eye.  He wished she could be subtle about it.  Not that he believed Jeffery would or even could pick up on that kind of thing, but there was, after all, a child in the room.
	The job was an easy one.  It was a simple replacement of a couple of worn down gaskets, which he had on hand and in the right size, and tightening a few loose screws.  About an hour and he was already packing things up.  Jeffery had been led to the bathroom, and Devon thought, since Ms. Tavers had shown him to it, he might get to clean the workspace in peace.  Not that he minded the constant mutterings of his nephew; his presence saved him time in both tool collection and measuring.  
	No, he was happier with Ms. Tavers gone.  Not that she wasn’t attractive of course: she had curves in all the right places, which the classic bear pudge accentuated, large breasts, a sultry smile and large, shining eyes that were hard to resist.  It wasn’t his age in relation to hers, though he might have been willing were he fifteen or twenty years younger.  No, this was an experience thing, and he’d hurt many smaller partners over the years to engage outside his species.  He sighed, his pants uncomfortably tight as he dried up water spillage, thinking about what might have been.
	Cynthia reentered the room, and she walked straight to him, and, being as forward as can be, grabbed a handful of flabby gray elephant butt.  He sensed it coming, but was still shocked by her brazenness, and he face-planted against the edge of the counter as he jerked forward and away from her grope.  
	“Fuck!”
	“I’m sorry!  It’s just that, he’s out of the room and I thought… I thought we might be able to do something.  Slip off to my room for a bit of fun.”
	Devon dropped the towel at his feet, and stood up.  He made a deal of it, made it easy to see the difference in their sizes.  Jeffery could’ve told exactly how much they differed in an instant.  Suddenly, he seemed to fill the entire room.  
	“I appreciate the offer, ma’am, but I don’t think it’s gonna work out.”
	“I can’t see why!  You’re clearly interested!”  She gazed longingly at his growing bulge.  
	“You’re right, I am.  But believe me when I say you’re being too ambitious.  You wouldn’t be the first to bite off more than she could chew.”
	“Isn’t that something I should be allowed to discover for myself?”  Cynthia reached out and patted the growing bulge in his pants.  It was in danger of pushing past his belt, and up under his shirt.
	“I don’t say that as a matter of pride Ms. Tavers.  It’s a fact.”
	“Well… there’s, um, other things we could do, isn’t th-”
	“Fuck.”  Said Devon, staring over her shoulder.
	“What?”  Cynthia asked.
	“It won’t fit.”
	Cynthia pirouetted to see Jeffery zipping up his pants in the doorway, watching them with frightening keenness.  
	“What do you mean it won’t fit?”  She asked, hastily taking her hand away from the monster Devon was attempting to suppress.
	“He won’t fit.  It won’t fit.  It’s too big.  Too long, too wide.”
	“Are-are you talking about…?”
	Jeffery frowned.  “His penis is too big!  It won’t fit, it won’t fit!”  
	“I…” Devon began, but he didn’t know what to say.  What could he say?  This woman’s thirst made them drop their guard, and now a child was telling her his cock wouldn’t fit like he was intimate with its every detail!  He prayed to god Ms. Tavers wouldn’t turn on him and demand how an innocent little autistic boy could know something like that.  For that matter, Devon also wanted to know how he knew he was too big for her, but also feared the answer.  Had Jeffery come and touched him on any number of nights when he was staying with him, his brother, and sister-in-law?  The idea that his nephew might be touching him, maybe his brother and his wife while they slept at night disturbed him and was something he wouldn’t want to put past him if he wasn’t.  Whatever happened, whatever the answer, at least he was done, and could grab the boy and run if need be.  Tantrum or no, he was strong enough to power him out the door and into the truck and scram, he’d done it once before.  He was dreading asking such questions as to verify his intuitions, and explaining why it was inappropriate to talk about dick size on the way home, and quite frankly scared of telling his brother of his son’s antics during today’s outing.  Hopefully his brother would be understanding enough of his son somehow knowing how big his dick was.
	“This will.”
	Devon’ mouth dropped.  Did his words contain the rare unsolicited offer of physical contact?  More concerning, did he just solicit in his own inscrutable way, his client for sex?  This didn’t appear to him, as much as he could discern in his anxiety, to be a joke, something he didn’t think him to be capable of anyways.  When, where and how had he learned of such things?  Who teaches an autistic kid about sex?  How does one engage sex through numbers?  Devon’s head spun, and Cynthia looked equally dumbfounded.
	Jeffery brushed past Ms. Tavers and sized up his uncle.  He grabbed his uncles bulging jeans and turned to face Cynthia.  Devon felt as though he’d been punched backwards into an electric fence.  A dozen tiny sparks lit up and down him from the point of contact, stunning and clouding his thoughts and leaving him out of breath.  The unexpected stimulation of being touched intimately again accelerated the growth of his erection.  The fear and taboo worked an incredible reaction in him and the head of his dick forced its way past his belt and hem, rearing into sight, where it grew incrementally past the buttons of his work shirt.  “This is thirty-six inches long, six inches in diameter, and produces between point nine and one point three liters of semen on average.”  
	Jeffery dropped his pants and boxers in one motion; he hadn’t been zipping up when he entered the room and seen Ms. Tavers flirting with and fondling him.  He had been unzipping.  Out popped an eleven year old elephant cock, nestled between soft, peach-fuzzed thighs and pubis, hardening with an enviable, youthful vigor.  
	“This is thirteen and three-eighths inches long, three point eight inches diameter, and produces point four ounces of semen!”  He announced proudly.  Finally he released his uncles cock, then he walked, his cock stiff and bouncing, hypnotic to Cynthia, who could not look away from it the moment it appeared, shoved her robe aside with one hand and grabbed her pussy with the other, sinking his middle and ring finger into her like a professional giggalow.  
	“This is between fifteen and a quarter and eighteen and a half inches deep, and between four and six inches in diameter.  This will fit.”  And he let go of Cynthia’s vagina, fingers dripping with her arousal, and gripped his own member again.  He stroked it stiffly, like he’d only ever seen it done and never actually tried it himself.    
	“Okay.”  Cynthia half-shrugged and untied the sash on her robe, then took Jeffery’s penis into her hands, wrapping one under the head and cupping his balls with the other.  Devon slumped.  His nephew wasn’t resisting the groping at all.  Somewhere in his mind, the fact that he was allowing himself to be molested and not having a tantrum was as devastating as the actual fact of the molestation he was witnessing and that he, himself, wouldn’t raise a finger to stop it.  
	Cynthia’s shining wet pussy stole Devon’s attention and his erection came to full mast.  She guided his nephew’s cock to her vulva, making soothing noises.  But even though his heart pounded in his ears, and common sense told him to grab his nephew and run, or at least call the police, he freed his massive dick instead and stroked it over this bizarre turn of events.
	Seeing him with his underwear around his ankles was like looking at himself in the mirror, but thirty something years ago.  Though he was certain of Jeffery’s given values being accurate, it failed to encapsulate the glory of the elephantine member.  A glory that, age and heterosexuality aside, nevertheless entranced him.  The S bend that his nephew’s penis had was much more subtle than his own.  A four inch diameter appeared monstrous between such young legs.  He didn’t remember being that thick when he was that age, but the girth was undeniable.  Compared with his own, of course it was small, but positioned where it was, with only Ms. Tavers thighs and vagina for comparison, it looked elephantine in every respect.  Even the head, which was the narrowest part, was broad, angled, and flat on the underside, not unlike an upside down dog penis, but without the tip, or the head of a horse’s dick, but flatter and, of course, the face of it angled downward.  
	Ms. Tavers moaned like a whore as his nephew rubbed the head of his cock over her pussy, blindly trying to stuff it in her but getting nowhere until she took him in hand and put him in the right spot.  The head of Jeffery’s cock speared into her, and there was a splash of pussy juice as her labia closed over the head.  It squirted across the top of the boy’s penis, turning dusty gray skin a darker, asphalt gray as it saturated and filled in the fine wrinkles in the thick flesh, then collected and dripped from the underside.
	“This is not what I expected.  This feels good.”  Jeffery repeated several times as he sank past the half way point.  “Is this why there are so many pictures on the internet?”
	A bolt of pleasure ran from cock base to tip as Devon watched his nephew’s cock slide, inch by inch into Ms. Tavers eager, sloppy pussy.  She heaved, her matronly beasts rolling towards her armpits as she leaned back onto the table, which creaked irritably under the mating pair.  A couple inches before vagina met hips, Jeffery’s descent into heaven ended.
	“You’re too shallow.”  He said coldly, eyes narrowing.
	“I don’t care!”  Cynthia said, and moaned.  The folds of her pussy were pinned open and stretched wide, and delicate female juices continued to drip from the point of union.  The air stank of sex.  Devon stroked his cock.  Porn just wasn’t the same as seeing it live.  “Just fuck me!”
	“But-but it won’t fit.  It supposed to fit.  It’s supposed to fit!”  He shouted, fidgeting and flapping his hands.
	“Ms. Tavers, do the work, quick!”  
	Jeffery balled up his fists; he looked ready to fight.  Ms. Tavers rocked her hips.  Three inches of dark, glistening, young elephant penis slipped into the light, then sank back out of sight.  She reached forward and pulled the boy into her bosom, placed a hand on his rear, and showed him by feel what to do.  
	A moment passed, his nephew vanished into the bear hug but for waving arms and clenching fists.  Then he relaxed, grabbed her back, fingers sinking into his partner’s thick fur and bucked tremendously.   The table groaned under the weight and power of a young, mating bull elephant and his grizzly lover.  
	Jeffery bucked into her again and yelled, “Two!”  Then again and yelled, “Three!”  Devon burst out laughing as he stroked his dick.  Numbers.  Of course numbers.  Numbers to make sense of the world, his constant.  
	“What-ah!  Is he-oh!  Doing-hah?!”
	“He’s counting!  Just ignore it!”  
	“Seven!  Eight!  Nine!”
	He counted faster as he found his rhythm, enumerating his thrusts until each number bled into the next and finally stumbled over them, giving up at seventy-seven, when the table collapsed under the strain.  Cynthia shrieked, but Jeffery kept going to town like a champ; nothing could stop him now.  Devon stood over the pair mating on the floor among splintered wood and beat his meat furiously.  Everything wrong with what he saw galvanized him.  As they writhed on their bed of splinters, he ejaculated over them, drizzling seed over the remains of the table, spreading cum over his nephews bare ass and back, and catching Ms. Tavers in the face.  She flung an arm over her face to protect her eyes from the white rain.  
	The boy between them reached a shocking and frenetic pace.  “Slow down!”  Cynthia squealed, but Jeffery continued to fuck in uncanny silence.  Devon came again, splattering his nephew and Ms. Tavers a second time, frosting them like an obscene bearclaw.  She roared a moment later, following him into a mighty orgasm.  At last, Jeffery seemed to run out of steam, and trumpeted as he came for the first time in his life and stopped, buried as far as he could get into her.  
	“Oooooh, ooh gawd!  I-I can feel it squirting through my cervix, holyshitholyshitholyshit!”
	Jeffery stood up suddenly.  His penis slipped out of Cynthia with a horrendous, moist squelch.  He was still cumming, and the thick ropes left a swamp of young cum splattered between her legs that drained down the crack of her ass and pooled on the floor.  She looked dazed.  So did his nephew, standing there, silent again after his triumphant toot, cock hanging down between his knees like a second trunk, dripping thick semen in silhouette.  Devon grabbed a clean towel from the counter and wiped the cum from his dick, then from his nephew’s, then gave Ms. Tavers the aftercare that Jeffery wasn’t capable of granting.  
	A short while later, she started to rally; meanwhile, Jeffery sat on a stool, pants and boxers still around his ankles and measuring various items, cock softening and oozing on the seat.
	“Wow.” Ms. Tavers said, sitting up at last.  “I can’t believe I did that.  What the fuck is wrong with me?”  
	“I don’t know, but whatever it is, it must be wrong with me too, or I’d have stopped you, I think.”  
	“What do we do now?”  She looked at Jeffery.  He ignored them both.
	“I think it’s best if Jeffery and I clean up and leave.  Your disposal unit is working.  I hope that table wasn’t too expensive.”
	“Not really.  It was from Ikea.”
	Devon smiled weakly.  “Jeffery!  Put your clothes on.  We’re done here, lets go.”
	“Could you help me up?  I can barely feel my legs.”
	Devon held out his hand and hoisted her.  Her robe hung open, but he didn’t question her choice to leave it that way.  To be honest with himself, he was getting rather hot again watching that young cum leak out of her pussy.  His nephew seemed entirely uninterested.  Cynthia put on a show for them while they finished getting themselves together to depart.  Devon, at least, appreciated it.
	At the door ten minutes later, no one would have thought anything amiss had happened standing at the door, Devon observed.  He hoped that Ms. Tavers would be able to clean up and replace the table okay on her own.  
	“Thanks for fixing my disposal, Devon.” she said as they stepped out the door.  And to Jeffery, as he passed, whispered, “And thank you for plumbing my pipes, little man.”
	Jeffery stared at her, rattling off numbers to who knew what now.  Cynthia shook her head and sighed.  “I suppose it was too much to ask that it would’ve helped screw his head on straight, but I guess sex doesn’t just fix people.  If it did, it would be freer, less stigmatized, wouldn’t it?”
	“It’s not our place to ‘fix’ him anyways, Cynthia.  He is who he is, even if we might wish more, better, or different for him.”
	“I think that’s the first time you’ve called me by my first name.”
	“Perhaps.  Anyhow, we need to get going.  You know my number if… you need anything else fixed.” he smiled slyly, “or broken.”  And he turned and walked to the rusted pickup that would take him and Jeffery back to their homes.  The main question occupying his mind as they settled in for the trip was how to ensure that Jeffery didn’t say anything compromising.  How did one communicate discretion with numbers?