Lena Whitmore's eyes gradually grew calm and detached, then turned icy and venomous.
What difference was there between this damned apocalypse and the cutthroat world of Hollywood fame?
Becoming that man's woman—how was it any different from being Jack Coleman's?
She had never loved Jack in the first place.
Marrying him had only been a means to leverage his Hollywood connections for more fame and fortune.
But now, Jack was a useless cripple—unable to give her anything she wanted, only dragging her down.
So why cling to him?
Husband and wife?
In an apocalypse like this, what did such bonds even mean?
A weak woman like her needed a strong man to survive. And right now, that man was her only lifeline.
Her only remaining asset was her body—her pride and joy—and her status as a Hollywood goddess. If she could use that to seduce him, she might earn his protection and live on.
Life was far more precious than fame.
And the apocalypse was even crueler than Hollywood.
If she could shack up with Jack for status, then what was so shameful about pleasing another man to survive?
"Jack Coleman! How dare you blame me?! You're the man who couldn't even protect his own woman! You let another man rape me, and now you have the nerve to call me a bitch? You're pathetic!"
"Yes, I'll admit it—I enjoyed it! If I can't change it, why not embrace it? He gave me pleasure you never could! I loved fucking him!"
Lena suppressed her tears and whispered coldly into Jack's ear, her voice trembling with forced cruelty.
"All I want now is to be his woman—because he can protect me. He can keep me alive. And what's the difference between being fucked by him or by you?"
"I was going to beg him to spare you… but since you want me dead, don't blame me for what happens next."
With one last icy glance at Jack, she turned and crawled on all fours toward Yasin, who was packing his things to leave.
"Master! Please! Your slave begs you—don't leave me behind! I want you to fuck me again! I want to serve you!"
Lena knelt before Yasin like a bitch in heat, her big, watery eyes pleading pitifully.
"Hahahaha! HAHAHAHA!"
Jack burst into hysterical laughter, but this time, it was eerily calm.
Having clawed his way up Hollywood's ruthless ladder, he understood Lena's thoughts all too well.
If she hadn't been willing to shed her pride and dignity, she never would have reached such heights.
How many actresses and models in Hollywood were truly pure?
Behind every successful woman stood powerful men pulling strings.
And those so-called "goddesses"? In front of those men, weren't they all just as debased as Lena was now?
"What?! Mrs. Coleman… did you just say you want me to fuck you again? But… what about your husband?"
Yasin feigned shock, spreading his hands in mock helplessness.
"Mrs. Coleman, you know my supplies are limited. An extra mouth is an extra burden. I can't afford to share with two useless people..."
"Mmmph—"
Before he could finish, Lena parted her luscious lips and took Yasin's still-glistening cock into her mouth, her eyes fluttering shut as she began sucking with desperate enthusiasm.
At first, the thick, musky taste of his cum made her gag slightly, but soon, through sheer willpower, she lost herself in the act, moaning as if savoring the finest delicacy.
The wet heat of her mouth, the way her tongue coiled and stroked—Yasin's softening shaft quickly hardened again, throbbing against her lips.
Looking down at the Hollywood A-lister servicing him like a common whore, Yasin felt an intoxicating rush of dominance.
Lena Whitmore.
The woman men across the world fantasized about—now on her knees, worshiping his dick like it was her only salvation.
Her plump, round ass stuck up in the air, one hand frantically rubbing her own dripping slit as she sucked him off with obscene passion.
"Slurp~ Mmmph… ngh… ahh~"
Her technique was clumsy, but her desperation made up for it.
Once, she would have recoiled at the thought of tasting a man's cock—even Jack's. But now, driven by survival and some twisted, shameful arousal, she threw herself into the act with genuine fervor.
"Slurp~ Ngh… ah! Mmm~"
"Fuck…!" Yasin groaned, his hips jerking.
He'd never experienced anything like this.
And from a world-famous sex symbol, no less.
The way her tongue swirled around his tip, the tight suction of her throat—his balls tightened, threatening to erupt again.
In his past life, he'd splurged on high-end brothels, paying for expensive blowjobs.
Back then, those sessions had felt like heaven.
But this?
This was Lena Whitmore—a woman whose face graced billboards and movie screens worldwide.
Her technique might not compare to a professional's, but the sheer psychological thrill of dominating her overshadowed any lack of skill.
"Good girl, Lena. You've got potential. From now on, I'll train you to be the perfect little cocksucker. Soon, you'll put those professionals to shame."
Grabbing a fistful of her golden hair, Yasin gently thrust into her mouth, testing how deep she could take him.
Lena obediently tilted her head back, throat opening as she swallowed him deeper, her neck straining to accommodate his length.
The slick warmth of her mouth, the rhythmic clenching of her throat—Yasin snarled as his orgasm hit, ropes of cum shooting straight down her gullet.
Lena gagged slightly but forced herself to swallow, her throat working as she took every drop.
As Yasin's cock softened, she pulled back, licking her way down his shaft before taking his balls into her mouth, sucking gently.
The sensation was electric—Yasin's entire body shuddered.
"Master! Please! Fuck me again! My pussy… it needs you! Don't leave me behind! I'll do anything—anything you want!"
Lena groveled at his feet, her once-proud eyes now begging like a desperate animal.
For survival, she had abandoned all dignity, letting depravity consume her.
"You fucking whore! Disgusting bitch! You'll both rot in hell! bastard, think about it—if she'll betray her own husband like this, what's stopping her from stabbing you in the back later?! She was the one who convinced me to kill you in the first place! This treacherous slut!"
"Women! This is what women are! bastard! You'll end up just like me—played by this whore until you meet a miserable end! You'll both get what's coming to you!"
Jack roared, veins bulging as he watched his wife, his wife, debase herself for another man.
In all their years of marriage, Lena had never sucked his dick. Every time he asked, she'd recoiled in disgust.
Yet now, she was deepthroating this stranger like a seasoned whore, enjoying it, even swallowing his cum like it was nectar.
The sight was so perversely erotic that, despite his rage, Jack felt his own cock hardening.
Looking at Lena's sticking out her perky, white buttocks and fingering that charming pussy, Jack even forgot about his anger and felt that his cock was about to burst!