tagCelebritiesChris Hemsworth: Sex God

Chris Hemsworth: Sex God

byGoldeniangel©

Author's Note: The beginning of this story came from a dream that I had. I usually don't write in the Celebrities category anymore, but I couldn't get it out of my head. Chris Hemsworth is damn sexy and I had way too much fun writing this. Yes, I am the heroine in this story cuz well... it's my fantasy. Because it's my fantasy, you're now entering a world where there is no need for condoms. If you find it unrealistic... well it is. But that's why it's a fantasy ;) There's a bit of a slow build-up prior to the sexiness, but hopefully it's worth it in the end!

*********

Angel shifted her feet back and forth nervously, standing at the edge of the sound stage. How the hell was this happening? Erotica writers weren't supposed to become famous... crazy what 50 Shades of Grey had done to the world. Suddenly everyone wanted to read smut (not that she was complaining, because she loved writing it, but that didn't make it any less confusing.) Apparently someone on the production staff of the Daily Show was a big fan, so when Jon Stewart decided that he wanted to have a segment on the recent erotica boom, they contacted her of all people. As someone who was doing it mostly for free, although she had a few e-books that she'd self-published on Kindle, she was there to talk about her experience as a writer for such a volume-heavy website with one of the largest readerships in the U.S.

Lost in her own thoughts, she didn't even hear Jon Stewart (it was impossible for her to think of him by just his first name) announce her, until one of the crew was pushing her out towards the set. Crap. Barely managing not to stumble, Angel pasted a big smile on her face as she trotted out. The audience clapped and hooted, although there was a slight hesitation as they took in her outfit. Angel wasn't there to dress up like anything other than herself - a pretty, normal looking young woman who just happened to write porn. She'd let the hair and make-up department tame her brown curls and do some natural looking make-up so that she wouldn't wash out under the harsh television lights, but she was wearing her favorite pair of blue jeans, a pair of Easy Spirit sandals that were more comfortable than they were stylish, and her favorite blue vintage t-shirt with Supergirl, Batgirl and Wonder Woman on it that said "Anything boys can do, girls can do better." The applause redoubled as the audience took in her appearance, appreciating her for who she was, and Angel blushed happily, waving her hand.

Walking out had been the scariest thing she'd ever done in her life, despite the fact that she used to be in theater and should have long gotten over her stage fright from all the school, community and college shows she'd been in. It was completely different now that she was show-casing herself and her work, especially her work since she put a lot of time, energy and passion into it. And because she'd been terrified that she'd be booed as some kind of pervert. Despite the new penchant for erotica, she had written in a lot of categories over the year, many of which portions of the population would consider extreme or abhorrent. Coming out like this in public was frightening on many levels.

"Angel, welcome!" Jon Stewart said, smiling as he extended his hand. The warmth in his eyes was like a fizzy ginger ale, settling her queasy stomach. The Daily Show had always been one of Angel's favorites, specifically because of its host. He was smart, friendly, and funny as hell. Not to mention pretty darn studly. For a moment she was distracted by the idea of writing a story about him... but could she now that he would know who she was? Maybe she'd have to get a new pen name for some of the stuff she wanted to write.

"Hi Jon," she replied, only a little belatedly. After walking around for years with stories running through her head, Angel had gotten accustomed to keeping track of conversations while her mind was racing, thinking of plot points and scenes. "Thank you so much for having me."

"So," he said as the applause settled down and Angel eased herself into one of the seats. "Sex. I like it."

Everyone laughed and Angel could feel her muscles relaxing even further.

"Me too," she said, her eyes sparkling.

"How did you get started? Why?"

"Um, well I used to do a lot of reading. And I always liked writing, but it's a lot more work than just finding good stories to read," she replied. Jon and the audience chuckled appreciatively. "But one day I really just wanted a specific kind of story and I got frustrated when I couldn't find it, and I thought, well I'll just write it myself then. And, to my surprise, I got a lot of great feedback and people pleading with me to keep the story going, and then one thing led to another and all of the sudden I was writing for a contest that required me to write in as many categories as possible on the website, and then all of the sudden I had hundreds of dirty stories."

"Wow. And totally unashamed."

Angel laughed. "I wouldn't say that. Especially at first. But I know who I am. I write fantasies, often ones that don't actually interest me myself, but there's always some element in the story that fascinates me. A lot of what I write is by reader request or suggestion now, or something from someone else's writing that has inspired me."

"And who are your inspirations?"

"Well, I read a lot on Literotica, of course. Selena Kitt is a big favorite of mine for both Lit and e-books. On Amazon I love Lexie Blake's e-books and a lot of Bianca Sommerland's work. I tend to jump from author to author though, a lot of people aren't quite as prolific as I wish they were. Of course, that eventually changes as time goes by and they write more."

"Fascinating. I love your shirt by the way. Are you into superheroes, or just the girl ones?"

"Superheroes, period. I'm a pretty big nerd girl. I love erotica, Star Wars, Indiana Jones, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, Wonder Woman, She-ra, Batman, the Avengers..." as Angel spoke the audience roared its approval, cheering her interests. Angel blushed again, happily. It wasn't that long ago that she'd been made fun of for a lot of those interests, and she'd had the name "Bookworm" among her classmates since Middle School. She'd answered to it to their surprise, because it was true, and it ended up sticking as a more affectionate nickname, but she never forgot that it had originally be introduced to make fun of her.

When the audience response died down Jon smiled at her again, but there was something about that smile...

"The Avengers, yes. I've been told you recently written a celebrity fantasy about a certain Avengers actor?"

Angel laughed as he wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively.

"Chris Hemsworth... Yes. Perfect casting. Except he's not just a Thunder God unless Thunder is a euphamism for sex. As in, 'The hammer is my penis'."

Titters and gasps throughout the audience, and for a moment Angel thought that they were laughing at her reference to Doctor Horrible's Sing-Along-Blog, and then suddenly her intuition kicked in. Blood drained from her face and then flushed back into it, turning her cheeks a fiery red. She glared at Jon, directly in the eye, all the hairs on her arms and along the back of her neck standing straight up.

"Oh. My. God. Jon... tell me you didn't."

The laughter that he'd been holding in - he really did have a great poker face unless he wanted the audience to see his tittering - cracked. Angel could feel the looming presence behind her.

Shit.

Fight or flight... fight or flight...

"Hello." The intoxicating deep voice behind her rumbled, practically purring.

Angel chose flight.

A deep booming laugh broke out behind her and Jon Stewart actually reeled backwards and almost fell of his chair as Angel jumped up and dashed to the other side of his desk, hunkering down with her back against it and curling her knees up to her chest. Deep breaths... take deep breaths... her heart was going a mile a minute and the screaming laughter of the audience seemed muted to a dull roar for a few seconds until it all came surging back.

"Angel... are you okay?"

She could hear the tears of laughter in Jon Stewart's voice as he tried to gather himself back together after his guest's unexpected reaction. Angel tried to remember if she'd ever actually seen anyone hide on his show... probably not. Raising her hand in the air, Angel wiggled her fingers, startling more laughter from the two men on the other side of the desk. It sounded like Chris Hemsworth was being strangled he was laughing so hard.

Sighing, knowing that she had to get up eventually, Angel took a few more meditative deep breaths and stood. Although her flight had been extremely humorous, she wasn't someone who got embarrassed easily. It was just that sometimes she needed to gather herself together when faced with a shocking or emotionally charged situation.

Oh, and also the fact that the newest man to join them on the set made her panties soak, her knees weak, and took her breath and mind away, and that was just when she was looking at a picture of him. Standing and turning and seeing him in person didn't dampen the effect. Not at all. Putting her hands out, she managed to catch herself on Jon Stewart's desk before her knees buckled with lust. Jesus, Joseph and Mary, one man should not have that kind of visceral effect... it was downright deadly!

"Angel? Earth to Angel? Earth Angel... Earth Angel..." It was only when Jon Stewart started singing that Angel realized she was still standing there, gripping his desk like she was Leo DiCaprio filming Titanic, starting deep into Chris Hemsworth stunningly blue eyes. Fuck. She looked like an idiot.

Her minor background in theater saved her as she pasted another smile onto her face and switched her attention back to Jon Stewart. The amusement in his eyes was tempered with genuine concern for her well-being, and she felt her face relax into a more natural expression.

"Come on Jon," she said, and the audience immediately quieted to hear her response. "You can't confront a girl with... all this," she gestured at Chris without looking at him, "and not expect her to need a minute or ten. Or twenty."

More hoots and hollars from the audience. Man she was on a roll tonight. Of course it helped that she usually had the verbal filter of Swiss cheese, and when confronted with someone that she actively lusted after it seemed to have disintegrated completely. She was too high on adrenaline and lust, with no "stop" control or brakes for her mouth... in fact, she felt almost dizzy, like she was drunk. Or maybe this is what being high on drugs felt like... she'd never done it and she'd always kind of wondered. The feeling of being completely out of control wasn't entirely bad, but it wasn't good either. Especially not on national television.

Chris stepped forward, around the chairs, heading towards her and Angel watched him coming with all the excitement of a woman watching an impending mudslide. Fuck, fuck, fuck... when he held out his hand to shake hers, she raised a trembling one, still holding onto Jon Stewart's desk with the other. Looking into her eyes was like sticking her finger in an electrical socket, and when they actually touched she could feel the shock rippling through her all the way to her pussy. Thank god she was wearing one of her thicker bras and her quickly hardening nipples *shouldn't* be noticeable. Not that she could look down to check.

"Hi, nice to meet you," he said, his eyes were sparkling with merriment as though he was thoroughly enjoying her ridiculous antics.

Angel blushed even more deeply.

"Hi."

Heap big writer. Use many words. Write stories. And all she could think of to say was "hi". At least it was intelligible. Halfway to being friendly.

Jon Stewart saved the day.

"Take a seat, take a seat, both of you."

On her way to the chair Angel stumbled, almost predictably, and Chris managed to grab her arm before she went down completely. His fingers even brushed the side of her breast as he helped her straighten. It felt like her face was never going to regain its original color as she half fell into her seat. How pathetic that she was going to be masturbating later to the elusive feel of his fingers against the side of her breast. At the same time... how fucking incredible that in some small way Chris Hemsworth had just touched her breast!

She didn't look at him when they sat back down. In some ways, it was almost better that she was sitting next to him rather than facing him, because at least this way she could almost pretend that he wasn't there. His presence was impossible to ignore, but without that chiseled jawline, gorgeous blonde hair and intensely gorgeous blue eyes filling her vision, she was feeling a lot more coherent. Able to form real thoughts and everything. Woo.

"So, Angel, somehow you knew who our second guest was going to be." Jon Stewart grinned at her, looking slightly abashed.

Getting some of her own back, Angel shook her finger at him and gave him a stern look. "You're a bad boy Jon, you're lucky I'm not giving out spankings today."

"Oooo hooo!" Jon Stewart made one of his little raised-eyebrow expressions that Angel always found so endearing. "And would you make the same offer to the Norse God sitting next to you?"

"One doesn't offer to spank sex gods," Angel said, almost reprovingly, but with a smirk. The sudden, deep laugh next to her made her want to sink into the floor. She turned her head towards him, cheating towards him without actually looking at him. "Sorry... I don't mean to be so outspoken. I seem to have misplaced my verbal filter somewhere."

"I am not offended at all," he said, reassuringly, and Angel automatically looked him in the eye... and immediately had to remind herself to keep breathing. So gorgeous. And big. And muscular. And close. Too close. She turned her head away, practically snapping it. Another low chuckle rumbled behind her. Crap. There was no way he didn't know how freaking sexy she found him. For the first time in her life, Angel felt well and truly embarrassed. Although she still wouldn't have given up meeting him for anything in the world. Her masturbation fantasies were going to be sooooooooooo much more intense after this. Too bad she didn't have her old collection of superhero cards here. She'd tried to get him to sign the case she carried them in. Not the actual Thor card of course. That thing was vintage, worth way too much to put a signature on it, not without intensive research into whether that would raise or lower the value.

*****

Chris was intrigued by the woman sitting next to him. He'd read the story that she'd written about him - a basic impromptu meeting at a dance club that turned into a fan's one night stand fantasy, normally not the kind of thing that would have gotten his engine going, but there had been a few things that had turned him on. In the story he'd been described as being dominating. Not like the Shades of Grey stuff, no spankings, but holding her wrists, forceful kissing, that sort of thing. And, of course, the many references to him as a Sex God. Which, wow was that a lot to stoke a man's ego with, but at the same time it gave him a lot to live up to. Just a little bit terrifying.

There was something strangely seductive about her, despite the fact that he should probably be running in the other direction from the 'obsessed fan'. His agent hadn't been real thrilled about him going on this show to meet her, but he'd been curious. Now he was even more so. She was a walking bundle of contradictions. Sexy but nerdy (which he liked). Pretty but unconventionally so. Healthy, but not model thin like most of the women he saw on a daily basis. And had the balls to write dirty stories, but apparently had trouble meeting him in the eye. She seemed... shy. Which was not at all what he had expected. It was obvious that she was very self-contained, the way she kept gathering herself back together every time she lost her proverbial footing.

And dear God her sense of humor... slightly twisted but incredibly amusing. Even her run to the other side of Jon's desk had been done with almost comedic precision. Was she playing him? Trying to peak his interest in her?

*****

Somehow Angel managed to make it through the rest of the interview, say an adequate "thank you and goodbye" to both Jon Stewart and Chris Hemsworth, before walking quickly off the set. The second she made it safely out of the view of the television cameras she bolted for guest room that they'd given her to "prep" in, desperately needing to splash some water on her face. Maybe just stick her head in the tub and drown herself. She really didn't know how to deal with the whole "mortification" thing.

Dear God, he must have thought her a complete idiot. If only she'd had some warning... no, no that probably wouldn't have done her any good. Then she'd have been too terrified to show up. Ugh. No one's supposed to ever have to face the object of their fantasies when you've publicly written about that object in seriously down and dirty terms! Most people never had to go through life with that shoved in their face. He probably thought she was some crazy fan girl... what on earth had possessed him to actually show up and meet her? Hopefully he wouldn't live in fear for the rest of his life that she'd be constantly following him, popping up naked on his property. She giggled a little. That would actually make a pretty good story.

A soft knock on her door made her groan a little. She was expecting a visit from the fan on the production crew... Linda, the one that had suggested she be contacted to do the interview in the first place. Well she'd have to thank the woman for one of the best and worst experiences of her life. Not that she'd say that. Definitely just stick to the "best" part. After all, it was true.

Smiling, amused at herself now that her tribulations were over, Angel opened the door with a "hello" on her lips and then let out a very loud "EEEEP!" before slamming the door shut in Chris Hemsworth's face. Her heart pounded madly and her knees buckled, sending her down so that she fell on her ass with her head between her legs.

"Shit!" she said, the word was surprised out of her by her shock at seeing him there and now by the sudden collapse of her body. Just as she was getting to her feet again, the door popped open and Chris stood there looking amused.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yep, yep, fine." Angel glared at him. "What are you doing here? Aren't you afraid I'll tie you down and have my wicked way with you?"

That surprised another one of those deep, rumbling laughs out of him. It warmed her belly and... other places that she shouldn't be thinking of while she was standing less than two feet away from him.

"You'd have to get the jump on me," he pointed out, smiling. "And so far I don't seem to have to do much to knock you down."

Angel couldn't think of a retort so she just stuck her tongue out at him.

****

The sexy, kittenish writer wasn't getting any less intriguing. He'd expected her to stay and flirt with him, or at least stand around and see if he would talk to her, after the interview. That's what most women did. Instead she'd bolted like he had the plague. When he finally tracked down the room she was in, not even sure why he was doing so, she made jokes about being a stalker and then stuck her tongue out at him like a five year old.

"Is that an invitation?" he asked, just to see her response. Woah... he could see her pupils dilate as she blushed, before she looked away, averting her very light hazel eyes. They had been bright when they were glaring at him, almost a golden or amber color rather than a true hazel. Now that she wasn't looking at him directly, he found himself distracted by the slight heave of her breasts. They were completely covered by the t-shirt she was wearing, although the super heroines on the front drew attention to the fairly substantial mounds. More than enough to fill even big hands like his own. It made his dick twitch a little, not the first time he'd felt that in front of her although he kept fighting it. Or did he? Why the hell had he followed her to her room anyway?

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