Naked in the Storm

Thor loved thunderstorms in New York. Naturally, as the God of Thunder, he thought storms were good anywhere. But in New York, they were truly something special. All the humans hovel in their towers, and he could marvel at the lightning rods on top, feeling the sky's current directed to the earth with care.

It was almost sensual, if he was honest. This scale of human architecture may not yet rival Asgard, but it wasn't completely unsophisticated. And he found the way it handled lightning, one of his natural elements, elegant in a way that was borderline erotic. But what kind of god was he be if he wasn't attracted to finery.

The Rivals training program had cancelled exercises for the day due to the storm. Thor found this simultaneously frustrating and gratifying. On the one hand, he wanted the chance to exercise his enhanced powers brought on by naturally occurring thunder and lightning. It empowered him in ways that he relished. Yet, on the other hand, he could also understand why the other champions did not want to face him in such an elevated state.

Not to be robbed of a day in Central Park, Thor had ventured out into the storm toward the park. He dressed in his human clothes, some "jeans" and a "hoodie" under a simple jacket, his trusty hammer Mjolnir disguised as an umbrella. As he did so, he felt its currents begin to intensify. His curiosity piqued, he pursued the storm's intensity until he himself could barely hold his eyes open to see through the winds.

His journey brought him to a large rock in the middle of the park. It seemed as if the storm's center was somewhere above this rock, a clear meteorological oddity even to someone as poorly versed in earth's weather patterns as Thor. Gripping his enchanted hammer-umbrella, he heaved himself with a mighty push, riding the storm's currents up and up until he was above the rock. Using Mjolnir, he guided himself down to the surface, landing with a thud.

Above him, thunder rumbled and lightning crackled, all of it pointing to a space in the middle of the storm. That's when he saw her.

The X-Man called Storm was suspended there, slowly rotating as the storm's fury frothed around her. He could barely make her out, but she was facing away from him, wearing a long black coat and heavy black boots. Her hair rippled with static shock as she slowly turned towards him to reveal that, under her coat, she was nude.

Thor couldn't believe it at first. His eyes foolishly widened despite the flaring lightning. My god, she was exquisite. He had heard she was a storm goddess, but to bear witness to her power like this was like a lightning bolt straight to his heart ... and his pants, where he felt his other hammer begin to tingle the same way Mjolnir did in flight.

Thor was all but gawking when he realized she had seen him.

--

Ororo Munroe couldn't believe she'd finally been caught. All her years of public voyeurism under the cover of storms, she'd been able to go wherever she pleased without ever worrying about prying eyes. It had always been thrilling, the most potent expression of her power at its height. She could walk around soaking wet -- in more than one sense -- completely lost in her ecstasy so long as she kept even a moderate amount of intense storm activity around her.

When she was at Professor Xavier's academy, she would often visit family in Harlem and had discovered Central Park was an exquisite location for all sorts of adventuring. When storms hit Manhattan, she could zip down the park and have her fun in the most public of all the city's places.

In these moments, she felt completely empowered as a goddess. The thrill of combat, the gratification of leadership, the intoxication of love -- all of these things had their moments. But the moments she truly savored were the ones when she walked among the storms, exposed to the elements and reveling in the erotic thrill of simply existing completely naked to the world, shrouded in nothing but her own strength.

In fact, she had just been about to remove her coat. Already, the cool wet of the rain was becoming distinguishable from the warm wet between her legs. But, of course, she had never accounted for the Asgardian God of Thunder. She couldn't even remember if she'd ever been in a storm with him, much less surmised he might be similarly empowered, rather than encumbered, by them.

She considered all this as she hovered there before him, maybe 20 feet above him. Far enough to feel the distance, but close enough that he could no doubt make out her breasts, the ridges of her abs, and, yes, probably even the lightning bolt of white hair shaved over the developing storm between her legs.

Though she had long relished the thrill of never being caught, now that she finally had been, it felt as if something in her had snapped. Seeing his face as he looked down her body, the subtle raise of his eyebrows as he clearly saw that she had shaved her lightning flash white pubic hair into the shape of bolt -- it all made her crackle with energy as sparks flickered around her.

Storm had finally been caught, and she was loving it. Gripped by sudden, aimless lust, she peered down at the figure before her, so much like a human man but clearly much more powerful. A god, someone who could match her power. In her sudden, desperate frenzy, a wild idea seized her.

With a gentle shrug, she let her long, black coat slide from her shoulders, exposing herself to him completely as the storm surged around her.

"Ah, Thor," she said. "Are you here to compare lightning?

--

Thor's jaw dropped so hard he thought it might clap as loud as thunder when it hit the ground. How long had it been since a woman had truly thunderstruck him like this? Ages? Eons? Epochs? He felt as if all of time had come and gone to bring him to this moment. But he was the God of Thunder, he could hardly appear so desperate as he felt. Barring the real thing, false confidence would have to do for now.

"Milady," he began, still searching for his words. "I could never." Lightning cracked around her as he added, more meekly than he had ever heard himself speak,"'Twould crush your spirits."

She was descending towards him now, fully nude as he felt the winds surge. She was raising an eyebrow and then threw back her head and gave a deep laugh.

"Oh, would it?" she asked, her voice dripping with derision. "Let us see."

Thor felt the winds gust suddenly. They bursted directly at him, forcing him to shield his eyes. He felt his own power surge, steeling his body against the onslaught, but his clothing was a different story. More quickly than he could've thought possible, the sheer power of the storm tore away at his garments. He felt the rain on the skin of his arms and then the front of his chest and shoulders as they were exposed to the elements.

The front of his jacket and "hoodie" and the t-shirt underneath were all disintegrating until until their backs were all whipped away by the winds. His jeans weren't faring much better, and before long the only tatters of denim left were held in place by his leather belt. Besides this belt holding scraps of denim to his waste, the only garment that had survived were the sturdy work boots left on his feet.

As the winds died down, he opened his eyes once more. He was practically nude. He also realized with a start that he was rock hard. His lower hammer was practically humming with energy as he returned his gaze to the goddess, who was now mere feet before him. His umbrella was still in his hand, and he gripped it as it turned back into Mjolnir. Despite the erotic thrill of the moment, his instinct kicked in and he was unsure if he should be prepared to fight. He narrowed his eyes as Storm considered him.

"Rest easy, God of Thunder," she said to him with a sly smile. "I would say, 'Lower your hammer,' only that is not my true desire. Judging by your ... posture," she said, lowering only her eyes below his waist for a brief, lingering glance, "you seem to take the same thrill in the power of the storm that I do. What say you to indulging this the way that only we can?"

Thor's shoulders relaxed slightly, but his cock throbbed when she had looked at it. What a thrill to be considered by so exquisite a specimen of a woman as she projected such power and confidence. Now that he could see her close up, there was no denying she was built like a true goddess. Her body was an exquisite matrix of the rigid lines of her toned musculature and the soft curves of her gloriously ample bosom and heavenly hips and thighs.

He wanted her. Forsooth, he needed her.

Finally breaking the tension of the moment, he replied, "I say I can think of no finer companion to bear witness to the true power of the God of Thunder."

--

Holy shit, Ororo thought to herself. This is actually working. She had scarce idea what had come over her, disrobing and presenting herself to him so wantonly. To strip him as nude as she was with her powers, only to see that his reaction was to prepare for a fight. To seize on false confidence to defuse that and then to hear his answer to a question she had nearly choked on as she asked it.

She floated towards him gracefully, closing the distance in no time. As their bodies came together, thunder struck. She draped her arms over his shoulders to wrap around his neck as his arms encircled her waist. Their flesh touched, feeling as if it still sizzled despite being coated in the cold, wet rain. As they kissed, lighting literally struck them both, a massive bolt that surged through them both.

As she pulled away, Ororo could see that the thunder god's eyes were glowing with the lightning's power. She knew hers probably were to as they gazed into each other's eyes for a second, the understanding of the moment settling over both of them. Then, they were upon each other like animals, not gods.

She kissed him ravenously, drinking in every inch of his tongue that he would feed her. He tasted like lightning and honey. Her hands ran across his rippling shoulders, up his neck and through the flowing golden hair being whipped around his head. He was so strong, so powerful, so handsome, and he kissed her so perfectly, with the exact right proportions of desperate lust and tender passion. She could feel how bad he wanted her from how he kissed her.

She pressed her body to his, their combined warmth radiating against each other. Her nipples, rock hard, pressed to the massive flat of his chest as her heaving tits squished against him. Against her inner thigh, she could feel his cock pulsing as it rubbed closer and closer to the eye of her storm.

She broke off from his kissing him long enough to pull him backwards by one hand, rotating around to pull him down to the ground on his back. He eased himself to the top of the rock where they were still standing, the highest point in Central Park. If anyone in town could see them in this storm, this would be the spot, and knowing that made her mouth water and her soaking wet pussy quiver.

He lay before her on his back, his hammer still in one hand. As if to make himself comfortable, he placed his hands above his head, relaxing back with Mjolnir held in the palm of the topmost hand.

She lowered herself down on him, straddling his stomach. She had seen how impressive his dick was before, but as it nestled between her cheeks behind her, she could truly feel the girth and heft of it for the first time. She settled firmly into place on top of him, clutching her own breasts as she relished in the feeling of sitting astride him.

On a whim, she reached above his head with one hand and clutched the handle of his hammer around his hand, forcing it to the rock. With pleasure, she realized that the hammer was actually responding to her touch. She had expected only to make a show of binding the Odinson's hands above his head, but a devious grin spread across her face as she realized she could truly hold them above his head. The widening of his eyes told her he realized it, too.

--

Thor could not believe it. The storm goddess atop him was wielding the power of Mjolnir against him. He tensed his arms, his muscles straining. But the hammer would not budge. It would not respond to his will, as it always had. Or perhaps, he realized with a throaty gulp, it was.

Never before had he been dominated like this. Never before had someone used Mjolnir against him, to subdue him. The only clear answer was that, in his heart of hearts, he wanted to submit.

He felt his cock throb between her cheeks. The knowledge of his submission seemed to empower it. He looked up into her glowing eyes and saw the look on her face -- mischievous like Loki but powerful like Hela. For the second time in as many instants, a panic washed over him. By Odin's beard, could she be Odinspawn herself?

She gave him no time to ponder whether she was some long lost sister. With deft movements, she held his hands in place beneath Mjolnir as she raised her hips. Her free hand reached between her legs and gripped his other hammer, guiding it forward. Slick with rain, she stroked it against her pussy lips, the storm intensifying once more as their sexes touched. He was lost in pleasure already as she raised herself up once more and then began to lower, this time welcoming him into her slowly.

--

By the gods, he was massive. Ororo had only just begun to feel him press into her when she knew the ride she was in for. She gripped the shaft of Mjolnir with one hand, pinning him in place, while the other gripped the shaft of his other hammer as the tip popped ever so gently inside her. She let out a gentle moan, feeling the godhead opening her up. She rocked herself gently in circles, feeling herself stretch out to accommodate more and more of him as she cycloned her hips down his massive cock.

Her moaning increased as she took more and more of him into her. The cold sting of the rain on her skin heightened the incredible heat in her loins as he penetrated her deeper and deeper, his inhuman girth practically the size of a human's forearm. He had to be nearly a foot in length, and she could feel her insides churning as she descended onto him. He was pulsing inside her in time with nearby peals of thunders.

Finally, she felt her hips make contact with his once more. She had bottomed out on him and let out the deepest moan she had yet, feeling all of him inside of her. His body roiled beneath her as he was lost in her, his movements enhancing her pleasure like the vibrations of a toy. But this was no mere toy, this was a god.

Maintaining the downward pressure on Mjolnir, she placed another hand on his chest. Slowly at first, she began to raise and lower herself on his shift. The looks on his face and noises from his mouth as she began to milk his cock with her pussy were exquisite. Before long, she was properly riding him, bouncing on a foot of godmeat while she held her captive in place.

Her pussy began to get creamy with froth as she rode him harder and harder, the pain of the rock beneath them scraping her knees no match for the pleasure of fucking him. Her stormborne voyeurism had always made her feel empowered, but nothing could compare to this.

She bounced on him harder and harder, refusing to slow for even a moment as she felt the building pressure inside her. She could tell she was getting close, and, from the look on Thor's face, he might be, too.

--

Thor had never experienced such ecstasy, even among the richest pleasures Asgard had to offer. The woman riding him was earthling by birth, but she was as divine as any being he had ever encountered. She was so tight, so warm, so wet -- all words he had learned from his time among the humans, too mundane to do justice to the feeling of her as she enveloped all of him again and again, the sound of their skin slapping against each other audible even as the storm raged around them.

He had completely given up on freeing his hand. His arms were pinned above him, his back arched in pleasure as she rode him like a warrior rides a mount into battle. The only sounds he could muster were a desperate series of groans and murmurs and yelps. But as he felt his climax approaching he knew he must warn her.

"S-s-storm," he tried to mutter loud enough for her to hear.

Thunder clapped above him as he opened his eyes and saw her surging with power again, still riding him without mercy.

"You shall call me Goddess," she intoned, her voice booming with authority. "Or you shall not address me at all."

That was too much for Thor. He could no longer contain himself.

"Goddess," he shouted. "My storm is coming!"

She crackled with energy as she cackled above him. In a way he did not think possible, she began to ride him even harder and cried out, "Feel the power of the storm!" Lightning struck once more, as it had when they first kissed, surging through as he felt her pussy become torrentially wetter.

Thor cried out, "Behold the God of Thunder!" And then he exploded into her, an endless rapid fire of his seed deep into the recesses of her womb. He had never cum so hard in all his years, nor so much. His body strained against the weight of Mjolnir pinning his head above his hands as his hips thrust up desperately into her, craving to feel her on every inch of him as he blasted her inside. The lightning continued to coarse through him, charging him up. Meanwhile, with every new burst from his cock, he felt the lightning's power surge and he heard thunder strike.

--

Ororo had started her orgasm before Thor, but had not ended it until after. When he called her goddess and said his storm was coming, she was done for and felt herself give in. Lightning had struck them both as her orgasm began, crackling through her as she cried out with pleasure.

With every new spasm of his dick as it shot rope after rope of cum inside her, she felt her pussy spasm in response, tightening its grip around him as she milked every last squirt of his seed from him that she could. Just as she felt the power of the storm surge through her, she felt the power of his seed surge into her, filling her with an unspeakably pleasant warmth as it oozed around him and began to leak out of her, mixing with the cream she had generated from fucking him so ferociously.

Her tempo finally began to slow as she felt his mighty orgasm wind down. The lightning strike that had held them both together in that moment of ecstasy dissipated, and she came to rest on top of him, feeling his still massive dick squelch inside her, marinated in the mix of their juices. She had not had a fuck like that in ages, if ever, she knew.

She gazed down at Thor below her. The Asgaardian's eyes were half-closed, his mouth half-open. Still not releasing her grip on Mjolnir, she leaned down to caress his cheek and kiss him gently. His lips responded to hers, but he still seemed completely in a stupor otherwise.

Ororo felt weak herself after the immense surge of power. But it wasn't the first time she'd cum hard in the park during a storm; Thor, even completely pacified and immobilized by her pussy, was just a complication to her normal escape plan. Regretfully, she began to raise herself off him, feeling every inch of him slide out of her. With a satisfying pop, she was tragically empty again as the rush of both their cum poured out of her and onto him.

She wished so badly she could simply stay atop him and feel him soften inside her, maybe even until he hardened once more. But she could feel the natural storm moving on, and she could not maintain their cover herself indefinitely, no less after such a divine fucking.

The only conundrum was how to hold Thor as she flew him home. He seemed to be too dazed to hold on to her.

Thinking quickly, she lifted Mjolnir from his hands, still marveling that she even could on her own. With her other hand, she grabbed the leather belt still strapped around Thor's waist, where the last tatters of the jeans he'd been wearing still clung to it. She lifted Mjolnir above her head and hefted the God of Thunder's practically lifeless body behind her, soaring up into the storm to safety.

--

Thor awoke sometime later -- still naked, but warm and dry and nestled into a plush bed covered in soft white linens in a room with a view. As his eyes adapted to the late afternoon light coming in the windows, he saw it was a view of Central Park, likely not far from where he'd been early that day.

By Odin's beard, he thought to himself when he considered his day. Did that truly happen?

As if to answer his question, he heard a noise from a nearby chair. Sitting there, watching the clouds break over the park, was the X-Man known as Storm, snuggled into a plush white bathrobe with her hair wrapped up in some kind of headwear that seemed designed to protect it.

"Look who's up," she said casually, glancing his way. There was a moment of comfortable silence as Thor rose to sit up in bed, letting the covers maintain his modesty. Despite what he remembered from just a few hours earlier -- or maybe because of it -- he felt unnaturally shy, completely naked in what appeared to be Storm's bedroom.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Just a little spot I keep here in the city," she said, still gazing out the window. She turned to him, smirking, as she added, "Nice to have somewhere close to the park for quick getaways."

Thor felt himself blush. "So, that really happened?"

"It sure did," she answered, her gaze returning to the window, where a rainbow was forming outside.

Suddenly, the thought Thor had chased away just before their tryst began returned to his head. In this awkward moment of wondering, he couldn't stop himself from asking the question in his head.

"You have held Mjölnir, you control lightning," he said, not believing the words were coming out of his mouth after the passion they'd just shared. "Mayhap you are Odin's long-lost daughter?

Storm turned back to him, the pleasant beatitude of her face replaced with sudden shock. As he watched, though, her smirk returned.

"No, thank you," she said. "The X-Men are enough family drama."