Lexi Lore: Cum to my juicy holes!

Lexi has been called in to shoot a session with a fitness influencer. If the therapist brings the heat, she might become a therapist to the stars… or at least get a chance to squat on that cock. The call had come through her agency that morning—an emergency booking. One of the city’s fastest-rising fitness influencers, Jax Stone, needed a last-minute massage therapist for a sponsored content shoot. Lexi packed her portable table, her best oils, and the tightest work-appropriate outfit she owned. This wasn’t just any client. This was Jax Stone—million followers, abs that could grate cheese, and a reputation for being as charming off-camera as he was on it.

The studio was a converted warehouse in the arts district, all exposed brick and harsh lighting. When Lexi arrived, Jax was already mid-shoot, shirtless and glistening under the studio lights, performing lunges while a photographer circled him like a shark. His muscle definition was ridiculous—every ridge and valley of his torso looked airbrushed in person.

“Lexi, right?” A frazzled production assistant grabbed her arm. “He’s been complaining about tight hamstrings all morning. You’ve got twenty minutes during the lighting change. Make him happy. Please.”

Lexi set up her table in a corner of the studio, arranging her oils and towels with practiced precision. When Jax finally padded over, sweat gleaming on his bronze skin, he flashed her a smile that had launched a thousand thirst comments.

“Thank god you’re here,” he said, stretching his arms overhead in a way that made his lats flare impressively. “These shoots kill my lower back. Think you can work some magic?”

Lexi smiled, patting the table. “Lie down and find out.”

He settled face-down on the table, and Lexi got to work, her hands finding the knots in his shoulders immediately. She could feel him relax under her touch, his breathing deepening as she worked the tension from his traps. This was her element—reading bodies, finding pain points, easing discomfort. But she was also reading something else: opportunity.

“So,” she said casually, working her thumbs into the muscle beside his spine, “you mentioned on your story this morning that you’re looking for a regular therapist for your tour?”

Jax groaned—partly from the pressure, partly from the question. “Yeah, my guy bailed last week. Says he can’t handle the travel schedule. You know anyone?”

Lexi leaned into her strokes, letting her hips sway slightly as she worked. “I might. I’m between contracts right now. Fully licensed, mobile setup, flexible hours.”

He lifted his head slightly, twisting to look at her. “You serious? You’d go on tour with a bunch of fitness idiots?”

“I’ve handled worse,” Lexi laughed, her hands sliding lower to his lower back. “Besides, I hear the per diem is good.”

Jax chuckled and settled back down. “I’ll have my manager send you the details. But fair warning—we’re intense.”

Lexi’s hands continued their work, but her mind was racing. Tour life with Jax Stone meant access—to his world, his connections, his inner circle. And if she played this right, it could mean access to a lot more.

She moved lower, her fingers finding the knot in his right glute that had been bothering him. “Tight here,” she observed, pressing deeper.

Jax inhaled sharply. “Yeah, that’s the spot. Deadlifts yesterday. Went heavy.”

Lexi worked the muscle with deliberate precision, her movements professional but her proximity decidedly intimate. The thin fabric of her top brushed against his leg with each repetition, a fact she pretended not to notice.

“You know,” she said softly, “massage therapy is about more than just muscles. It’s about connection. Trust. Letting someone help you.”

Jax was quiet for a moment. “I don’t let many people in. Too many people want things from me.”

“What do you think I want?” Lexi asked, her voice a murmur.

He turned his head again, meeting her eyes. “I think you want to prove yourself. And maybe…” He trailed off, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “Maybe you want to see if the rumors are true.”

Lexi felt a thrill run through her. “And are they?”

Instead of answering, Jax pushed himself up onto his elbows, then rolled onto his back in one fluid motion. Now he was facing her, his chest rising and falling steadily, his eyes traveling over her with open appreciation. “Why don’t you finish the session up here? My quads could use some attention.”

Lexi’s heart hammered, but she kept her composure. She moved to the head of the table, pouring fresh oil into her palms, and began working on his thighs. The muscle there was dense, powerful, and she took her time, her fingers tracing the separation between quad and hamstring with clinical precision that bordered on something else entirely.

Jax watched her through half-lidded eyes. “You’re good at this.”

“I know,” Lexi replied simply.

“When do you finish here?”

“Whenever you want me to.”

He reached out, his hand closing gently around her wrist. The touch was electric, sending heat racing up her arm. “The lighting change is almost over. But my place is twenty minutes from here. I have a home gym. Probably need a consultation on the setup.”

Lexi smiled slowly. “I do offer house calls.”

Jax sat up fully, his face inches from hers. “Then consider this your official job interview.” His voice dropped lower. “Show me what makes you different from every other therapist who’s tried to get close to me.”

Around them, the studio buzzed with activity—lights being adjusted, equipment being moved, the photographer shouting directions. But in their small corner, the world had narrowed to just the two of them.

Lexi leaned in, her lips brushing his ear. “I don’t just work on muscles. I work on everything. And I don’t quit until the client is completely satisfied.”

Jax’s breath caught. “Then I think we’re going to work together very well.”

The production assistant’s voice cut through the moment. “Jax! We need you back in five!”

He stood, grabbing a towel and wiping the oil from his chest. But his eyes never left Lexi. “My manager will email you the tour schedule. And tonight…” He pulled a card from his gym bag and pressed it into her palm. “My personal address. Come at eight. We’ll discuss the consultation.”

Lexi closed her fingers around the card, feeling the weight of it. “I’ll bring my full kit.”

“Do that.” He flashed that killer smile one more time. “I have a feeling this is going to be a very… hands-on working relationship.”

As he walked back to the set, Lexi packed her table slowly, savoring the moment. She’d come for a simple booking and was leaving with a tour position—and an invitation that promised much more. The therapist to the stars angle was just the beginning. By the time this was over, she might be squatting on more than just professional opportunities.

She glanced at the card in her hand and smiled. Tonight was going to be one hell of a consultation.