Chapter 103

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Translator: MadScientist

Chapter: 103

Chapter Title: Lies in Heat

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Reeking of pussy like a bitch in heat, and you're still lying? (♡)

Drama and movie shoots don't always follow the story's chronological order.

They consider locations, actors' schedules, makeup, props, and more to create an optimal roadmap of movements and timelines, then film accordingly.

For example, if it's a hard-to-revisit outdoor location like an overseas shoot, they'll adjust makeup and props to film multiple time periods in one go.

That's why, sometimes, watching a set can make your head spin trying to figure out what the scene even is.

But Paranormal was mostly shot in chronological order.

For Season 3, there were hardly any exterior locations—almost everything was filmed inside this massive set.

Thanks to that,

I could watch Jennifer and Catherine's performances and feel like I was previewing the drama itself.

After discovering the mysterious corpse,

the Morgan sisters head down to the nearby village.

The village, formed around the stark spire of a church in the center, exudes an eerie atmosphere.

A rundown inn with a flickering sign. About three cars are parked in its lot.

Catherine pulls up with her tough-as-nails driving skills and steps out.

- Hoo... Why are all the lights off?

Sure enough.

It was late, but with three cars in the lot, the inn was pitch black everywhere except the entrance.

Jennifer runs her finger along the ceiling of the car parked right next to theirs.

She grimaces at the dust on her finger and says,

- There's a ton of dust...

As Jennifer eyes the flickering inn sign suspiciously again, Catherine shrugs it off nonchalantly.

- Let's just go in. We can't sleep in the car.

The Morgan sisters enter the inn, but only dim orange lighting glows ominously—no one appears.

- Hey! Anyone there?

The camera zooms in on Catherine's baffled face and Jennifer's serious one for the final shot.

"Cut! Okay!"

Paranormal Season 3, Episode 1's last scene wraps up.

It wasn't some major incident, but the unknown corpse, the creepy village, and Jennifer and Catherine's vivid expressions build tension, leaving you eager for the next episode.

Director Steven beams, clapping as if thrilled with how perfectly the scene turned out—just like he'd hoped.

As the staff senses the day's shoot is done and joins in the applause, creating a buzz,

the extra actress who'd first connected me as Melody's contact approaches.

"Why aren't you doing anything?"

I answer quietly without even looking at her.

"Which idiot was it who poked around too soon already? Can't quite remember."

"......"

After I'd helped Jennifer when she nearly tripped before, Catherine's gaze toward me had softened a bit, but her 'guard' was still up.

Whenever I was with Jennifer, I always felt her eyes on me from somewhere.

I glance down at the approaching contact and say,

"Tell her to be patient and not screw things up with unnecessary moves?"

"G... Got it. But don't think I'm the only one watching."

I already knew that. It was just a lame threat to me.

"Hoo..."

Just a sigh escapes.

That bitch Melody Burns.

I thought she was just unhinged, but her patience was toddler-level too.

To Melody or her contact, it might look like I wasn't doing shit, but I was working my ass off in my own way.

The issue was this condition: witness Jennifer's NG.

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠problem...

NGs happened during shoots sometimes, but if the cause wasn't Jennifer, it didn't count.

And Jennifer's acting was rock-solid, damn it.

Even to me, with my awe-inspiring Acting Genius (A+), her mistakes were nearly invisible.

'What a headache...'

In the end, I went home empty-handed again today, without seeing a single NG from Jennifer.

What the hell should I do?

At this rate, I'd need to wait until mid-season filming to rack up 10 NGs.

Lost in those thoughts, I open the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠door to my lodging.

"You're back?"

Han Woo-hee, who was sprawled out sleeping like a mess until I left for the set this morning, now greets me with a lively face.

And she'd clearly heard my car pull up and gotten ready.

Stark naked, no less.

"Just like a pervert slut—barely home and you're already begging to get fucked."

I hurriedly shut the front door so no one would ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠see and grab her shoulder.

Han Woo-hee's skin under my hand radiates a subtle heat.

"Remember? You said you'd be gentle today..."

I tease her expectant face on purpose.

"True, but didn't you prefer it rough, sunbae?"

"...Sometimes gentle is nice too..."

I scoop up her slender waist with both hands and hoist her effortlessly.

"Kyaa!"

Freaked by the sudden lift, Han Woo-hee grabs my shoulders with both hands, kicking her legs wildly.

I carry her carefully to the bedroom like a potted plant, then toss her onto the bed.

"Ack-?!"

Not expecting the toss, she lets out a scream.

I deftly strip off my pants and pounce, forcing her legs apart.

"Y-You said gentle!"

Seeing her pout like she's about to cry fills me with some dark satisfaction.

I roughly spread her legs and rub my glans against her pussy lips.

"Sunbae, you must be confused. When I said I'd handle you gently, I meant your asshole—not your pussy. And—"

Each glide over her slit makes her pussy twitch violently.

I'd felt her running hot since I got back.

Her pussy starts gushing juices the moment I rub, like it's prepped.

"Look at all this pussy juice from just a little rubbing? Were you fingering yourself?"

"W-What are you talking about...!"

Dismissing her ducking and weaving, I bury my face in her pussy and inhale deeply.

Then I thrust my tongue deep into her folds.

"Ah, ahnng...!"

I don't know if she wiped with a towel or rinsed after hearing me pull up, but the thick, musky scent from deep inside couldn't be hidden.

I pull my face away and smack her pussy with my palm.

"Ack! Aack! W-Wait. Why?! Hahk?!"

She writhes her frail body, but I press closer, gripping her side and keep slapping her pussy.

Pussy juice splatters messily with each hit—more stimulating than expected.

"You fucking slut, lying your ass off while your pussy reeks like this. Did you or didn't you?"

"Eek! I-I did! Hik?! Heeek! I did, I did it! S-Stop!"

A 33-year-old actress admitting to lying only after her pussy's slapped.

I look down at her pathetically and say,

"Lies just slip out like a habit, huh? And a naked pervert slut greeting a guy like that—what's there to hide about jerking off?"

"......"

As she bites her lip with a flushed face, I push my glans into her pussy—redder than her cheeks.

My glans parts her inner walls, and soon my veiny shaft follows, plunging in.

Slipping right in...

"Ah, aaahh...ng...!"

She clenches the sheets and grits her teeth, lightly climaxing the instant my cock enters.

And I'm a bit surprised.

"Ha... fuck. Hey, you perverted bitch. How much did you finger yourself for your pussy to be all mushy like boiled silken tofu?"

True to form, her pussy clamps down hard at the degrading words, but it's still squishy as hell.

I grip her thighs tight and growl.

"If you don't wanna waddle your ass to that audition or whatever, tell me straight. How much did you do it?"