Brook Soso wiped a tear from her cheek, nodded, and stood to leave. Joey Caputo pretended to turn his attention toward a thick stack of files on his desk, but as soon as Soso turned around he looked up and drank in her ass, drawing mental curves to visually map her plump backside under her drab brown prison garb.
Soso stopped at the door, looking back at him.
"Do you want this closed, Mr. Caputo?" she asked, still red-eyed.
"Yes, thank you, Soso. Keep your head up," he said softly, then waited until the inmate left his office.
Whistling a tune, Caputo turned to his desk drawer, cheerfully selecting a jumbo box of tissues and a 16 ounce bottle of L'Occitane shea butter lotion. The good stuff. Caputo doesn't fuck around when it comes to masturbatory paraphernalia. Only the most luxurious of lotions for his cock.
He spun around in his pleather managerial chair and was about to close the blinds when he saw Joel Luschek out in the yard, bolting by the window with Suzanne Warren in tow. They crouched low and took cover near the corner of the building, just within Caputo's field of vision.
They looked like children playing capture the flag or hide and seek. What the fuck were they doing? Luschek was out of breath, his chubby form heaving as he fished a vapor pen out of his right pocket and took a long drag. He exhaled in a plume of mist, closed his eyes and rested his head against the brick wall like a junkie whose opiate fix just hit the bloodstream.
Warren looked terrified, and her eyes kept darting skyward, looking for something. Looking for what? There was nothing but cloudy sky.
Fuck it. Whatever they were doing, it could be dealt with later. For now, Caputo had a date with his mental image of a naked and quivering Brook Soso, and he wasn't going to let Luschek cockblock a perfectly good fapping session.
Caputo closed the blinds of his office window, then began whistling again as he squeezed out a generous helping of lotion.
Suzanne glared at Luschek.
"How can you be smoking pot at a time like this?"
Luschek shook his head, his eyes still closed after exhaling an enormous hit.
"It's vapor, Warren. It's healthier than smoking. You get all the cannabinoids without any of the nasty chemical byproducts you'd get by smoking a..."
"I don't care!" Warren snapped. "What are we going to do about that?"
Luschek opened his eyes, and followed Suzanne's finger toward a patch in the sky that didn't look quite right. It was the Time Humper, in geosynchronous orbit far above Litchfield. The ship's optical camouflage did an admirable job of concealing it from human eyes, but a faint outline remained where the edges of the ship bent the light, giving away its position if you knew where and how to look.
"Right," Luschek said. "This is really good shit."
From another pocket, Luschek produced a small pistol and handed it to Suzanne.
"Anti-penile tachyon pistol," the C.O. said. "One blast will vaporize the Space Admiral's henchmen. It won't do anything to Rodcocker or senior officers like Major Taintlicker. They've got serious armor. If you see them, run. And if you see Buddard, find the nearest building or tree, and climb!"
"Buddard?"
Luschek nodded. "The Space Admiral's tiger. He's a coddled animal, but a dangerous beast all the same."
Suzanne was dumfounded.
"Who the fuck are you?"
Luschek unclipped a device from his utility belt and punched a few buttons, bringing up a holographic display of Litchfield and its environs.
"Just someone who has a settle to score with the good Space Admiral," Luschek said. "In the local systems, they call me the Luschekian."
"Oh! Fuckfuckfuckfuck, yessss!"
Piper Chapman squirmed, all wetness and deep breaths as Alex Vause's fingers worked magic inside her.
"Shhhh!" Alex clamped a hand over Piper's mouth. "Someone's gonna hear us."
"I don't care."
Piper pulled the other woman toward her, letting out a scream as a bolt of pleasure electrified her body.
Alex risked a nervous glance over the pew toward the chapel's entrance.
"Don't stop! Don't stop!"
Alex laughed.
"Then you need to shut up!"
"Luschek. Luschek!"
Warren had followed the C.O. through the building's east entrance, where the chapel wing met Litchfield's yard. Luschek had been all business. Now he was frozen, ears perked up next to the chapel door. It was slightly ajar, painting the pews in a thin strip of flourescent light from the hallway.
Luschek raised a finger, signaling for her to be quiet and wait.
Suzanne's heartbeat slowed, and slowly she became aware of another sound. Puckering, moist, sloppy. She heard something thump against one of the pews, then muted giggling.
Luschek turned back to Suzanne, bringing a finger to his lips. He crouched low, sucked in his gut, and edged his way through the narrow crack in the door like a waddling penguin.
Suzanne followed him wordlessly, easily slipping through into the dark chapel.
Luschek took a left once inside the door, proceeding on all fours to the far side of the pews like a stoned baby. Suzanne followed until the chubby C.O. stopped.
She wondered what Luschek was thinking. Had he sensed Rodcockerian henchmen behind them? Did he think the Space Admiral's marines wouldn't bother checking the chapel after storming the prison?
The sounds were loader now. A muffled moan. Puckering lips. Heavy breathing.
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Suzanne realized Luschek had one hand over his crotch and was massaging himself. Disgusting! When she followed his gaze, she recognized Alex Vause. Alex Vause and...and...
"Dandelion!"
