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."