Storm: Book 1

By Steven Paul-Germané

The night the triplets were born, it was storming like crazy downtown Los Angeles. Patrick, Phil and Philip (Storm) Stevens were all born June 28th just after midnight and when Philip, the last one came out, he was such a feisty baby, that he was automatically called Storm, a name that has stuck with him through his life. However, a couple of months before their 25th birthday, a major storm came into their lives causing the boys to become close again, instead of trying to individualize themselves from each other. Other than their eye colors, one bluish grey, one hazel green and one light brown you couldn't really tell the difference between them from a distance. They were identical with the perfect bi-racial mix, intelligence and blessed with good looks and good bodies. All had sworn to take different paths. However; as fate would have it, their paths had to cross in order to come through the storm they were about to be overshadowed by.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Nov 22, 2013
• ISBN: 9781491817087

Steven Paul-Germané

Steven Paul-Germané is from Los Angeles, California and was raised some in a small town in Oklahoma. He pursued a computer information systems business degree from the University of Arkansas. After years of being married, he divorced his wife Kimberly a few year ago and commutes from the Dallas, Texas area to Fayetteville, Arkansas where he continues to raise his son Kah’Vanti. He has written several books with seven of them published. This is his eighth book being published and the fifth in his Storm Series. Mr. Germané is also a talented singer and songwriter, although none of his music has been recorded. He eventually would love to have his songs recorded and his books turned into movies for the LGBTQ community. His books are diversified and stimulates your mind, body and soul and he hopes to inspire other writers, to expand on their controversial subjects and actions and express themselves through their writings. There are heroes in all of us and no matter what gender, sexuality, race, ethnicity or anything else that mainstream seems to denounce, we - as a people and as individuals - have a voice and whether that voice is on paper or in verbal sayings, we have a right to express ourselves and live free and love freely. There are no limits except the ones we place on ourselves and hopefully we realize that the sky is the limit to what we can do. And that is infinite. Endless.

Book preview

Storm

There was a storm coming. Not the type of storm you’re thinking with the rain, the clouds lightning or thundering, hell not even a tornado or tsunami, the one called life. The one with ups and downs and twists and turns and bumps, you know, like a rollercoaster ride taking you through some stuff that you never knew would happen to you. I can assure you that it would be one that you will never forget and I know for a fact, I would never forget.

Hi, my name is Phillip Stevens but people call me Storm I guess because I was born on a stormy night June 28th on a Saturday morning in Los Angeles and from what I was told was very cranky when I came out, and a to be honest, a storm in Cali is rare so I guess I’ll take that as a sign or an omen of some sort that I had a higher calling or something. It really doesn’t matter because I’m not a good boy but I’m not a bad boy. I’m just me and when I say I’m just me, I’m me. I don’t give a fuck about my appearance although I have to admit I was blessed in that category and definitely not hurting between my legs either. I have a light complexion and my dad is white and mom black, yeah, not the other way around like most people have white moms and black dads. Nope not me! Let’s just say, it’s all good. 5’11, 187 34 waist deep dimples with bluish gray eyes and short curly cropped tapered low cut hair that I’m always trying different things with.

I’m sort of a rebel in my own way, I don’t particularly like athletes because, although I did play basketball and ran track, the only jock I liked were the ones I wore or the ones I was either fucking or getting fucked by on the low. Oh yeah, I guess I should inform you, I’m tri-sexual… Meaning I’ll try anything sexual as long as it’s safe and there is no blood or scat involved because I hate nasty people. If you’re going to get down, make sure that ass is clean or you can control yourself and the same goes for the women, if you’re going take dick make sure that coochie doesn’t have an odor or anything because trust me, my dick won’t get hard. And boys, if I smell that shit, then guess what, it’s not happening there so just be prepared to suck dick or suck mine or fuck me, because I got my shit taken care of and keep it taken care of all the time, just in case, hell you never know. I also liked to push my luck and see how far I can push things for example it was nothing for me to piss some jock off and then get surrounded by the team just so that I could prove a point or piss on the benches in the locker rooms at the athletes gym and watch them sit down on it either naked or in their towels thinking it was sweat or water but when they put their hands to their faces, they’d smell the urine. I told you I have a crazy sense of humor and deliberately do things in order to fuck with people especially those who were assholes to others. Yeah, call me whatever, I’m sure you’re thinking it but guess what; I don’t give a damn because I’m the one in control here, not you. Me!

I also had a thing for frat bruhs and whether you white or black, I aimed to prove my point and yes, I did fuck around with Kappa’s, Alpha’s and the Omega’s like they were water because do you realize how many downlow freaks are in fraternities. Well, I will tell you about Mario later on in the story but for now, not trying to piss anyone off before the story starts but let’s just say, you won’t be disappointed because that bruh was the only bruh, I looked at. Everyone else that fucked me or me fucking them only got it one way, doggy style, no kissing and no looking at me staring me in the eyes. Now, getting or giving head was different because I knew once he nutted or I nutted or she got me off, it was a done deal, pull up my pants and walk out the door or wherever I chose to get or give head at. So, no looking or gazing into my eyes because I felt that would be for someone I truly wanted to be with, but that was quite a ways off because I am young, not dumb but full of cum as you would say, and enjoyed my life not having anyone tied down to me, except for my family. So, get over it.

A little about me first off; I have 2 brothers and I am the youngest of them and my mom is a stay at home mom because my dad has his own company. Yeah you can say I’m not hurting for anything and can pretty much get what I want. I guess that’s the problem. I’m easily bored because I have the world at my feet and I’m always looking for shit to get into. I am currently attending UCLA and love it but it’s still school and I hate school but I know that it’s a means to stay busy during the day. I’m studying psychology because it’s one of those courses that basically involve me learning and figuring out people and what makes them tick. I like getting into your head and make you see things my way, even if you don’t. I just have that ability about myself. And my brothers, we all go to different universities because it is kind of hard to tell us apart at times when we are all together and if you didn’t pay attention to our eyes or to our heights, then you’d never know which one was which or who was who.

I don’t have many friends if any because I don’t warm up to people quickly because I’m not for sure if they want me or my dad’s money and remember that, it’s my dad’s money… not mine. Yes, he takes care of me, but I do have my limits and although I drive a Range, it’s just a car to me and I don’t care if it gets wrecked or trashed on the inside because in the front seat of the car in the passenger’s side you’ll find my breakfast, lunch or dinner at any time, which usually consist of Cheetos puff popcorn and Mt. Dew. Oh yeah, I’m addicted to that shit and would rather eat that and drink that than anything else. Don’t get me wrong, I am definitely a party boy and have crashed tons of parties, hit all the drugs you can think of and drank but would rather do the drugs than to wake up with a hangover any day. However, I’m a student, so we do what we have to do in order to wake up and get to class or to stay up late at night and cram for an exam. Oh, I have to tell you I have a photogenic memory also, so studying comes easy and testing is easier also. I actually was the valedictorian, along with my brothers, of my senior class but didn’t want it because I don’t like talking in front of a lot of people. So, my older two brothers spoke and I just acted like the shy guy I was or am. I’m a loner and like to keep my distance and pay attention to my surroundings at all time because you never know what the hell may be going on or happening. That was something I picked up from my dad early in life because he was wealthy, and everybody wanted his money or his business so we had to learn quickly to take care of ourselves and each other.

My older brothers and I constantly fought as we were growing up and I had to learn how to defend myself because otherwise I’d end up with the broken ribs or the black eye and since we all looked alike, because of our genetic make-up, no one wanted to go to school jacked up the next day being red, because that’s exactly what would happen, we’d be red. If we bruised, it was red or bluish purple. So we had no choice but to make sure no one ever hit us in the face. Can you imagine growing up as triplets? Well unfortunately, I told you I was the youngest with two older brothers, I didn’t tell you I was the last of the three born on that stormy night in June… Yes, lord, triplets, Larry, Curly and Mo but in this case it was Patrick, Phil and Philip Stevens. I guess my parents didn’t know what to call us so they just started naming.

Anyway enough about that. This is about me. And you can call me Storm because this is my story and I’m ready to talk and tell you everything. So get ready for the Storm of your life. Haha! Ok! Ok! I know, you want to know what’s going on… Be forewarned also, if you don’t like sex, then please don’t read this, if you don’t like drugs, please don’t read this, if you are a B.A.N.W.A.A please keep your ignorance to yourself because unless you’re writing this and know how to write something that will keep the readers coming back for more, sit back and enjoy this storm. And although this is a fictional account, some of this shit will get intense.

Oh and one other thing, when the three of us were together, you knew there was definitely a Storm coming!

Chances for a Storm I

What the fuck you hit me for?

Because you bit my dick dude, I responded. If you gonna suck dick, you need to learn how to suck dick, not bite it, I laughed. Yeah, I hit him up aside his head and pulled my dick out of his mouth.

Damn that hurt dude, he replied.

And my dick didn’t, I sarcastically stated buttoning my pajama loungers. I was on my way to my 8am class and always wore my house shoes and my pj loungers and any colored polo t-shirt, not pajama top. Hell I didn’t care if I matched. I didn’t care if I stanked and I didn’t care what others thought of me. If they didn’t like it, oh well. I had my back packed drooping off one shoulder and although I brushed my teeth and threw on a raggedy ass white polo cap, damn I loved that cap, had it for years, I was me. I could only imagine what my brothers were doing right about now. One went to Pepperdine in Malibu and the pretty much down the street at USC. We had dorm rooms on campus but when the urge hit us, we were home too.

Can I finish, he asked.

Finish what. I questioned.

Giving you head, the kid returned. He was blonde, with green eyes and definitely a trackster and ran for the UCLA track team. Tall lean and very flexible but I was in a rush.

Nah man, some other time, I lied as I left him there in the bathroom at the library. I had a paper I forgot to print off so I stopped by and printed it and took a piss. It was always a good spot to get a blowjob if you were in need of one. I’m sure most college campuses were like that, certain times of the day and certain areas throughout the campus were known for fratboy blows. Damn, it was feeling good until he bit my tip. And I needed to nut too.

Cool, the kid called out, I’ll see you around!

Not if I could help it, I said under my breath as I walked out of the library and headed to my psy class. Damn, nothing could fuck this day up, I thought to myself. I was going to meet my mom downtown Rodeo later along with my brothers because she had something important to tell us and she wanted us all there. Must be big I was thinking.

Mr. Stevens, the professor said as I came through the door a minute late. Why are you always late? Every day with you it’s the same.

I was using the head, I spoke out loudly.

More like getting some head, one of the students voiced out loudly. I knew who it was because he was my frienemy and his name was Jeremy Black and black was a damn good name for him because his ass was jet black and although he had some pretty ass white teeth, that motherfucker thought he was the shit with his ugly ass.

One thing you’ll know about me, is I don’t bite my tongue and I’m very blunt at times. But I can back my shit up so, taking on 1 guy or a herd of them, didn’t matter to me. And the bigger they were, the harder they fell. So fuck the dumb shit, I didn’t back down.

And you Mr. Black only wished you could get some head from anyone, I responded harshly.

Jeremy was speechless as the class roared to life. They all heard him start it and they all heard me finish it. Jeremy was embarrassed and it was cool with me, I didn’t care, fuck him. I didn’t owe him shit and no one else for that matter.

Mr. Stevens, the professor called out. Take a seat. I’m going to have to start marking you tardy, he promised.

I deliberately walked up to where Jeremy was sitting and sat down by him. The whole class just looked at me and then at us.

Mr. Stevens, the professor called out again. Can you find another seat please?

But I like this one, I called back with my voice carrying in that big auditorium style lecture room. This is psy class isn’t it, I stated.

Yes, but we’re not here to test our ability to mess with people’s heads, the professor reminded. We are here to see what makes people tick.

Well, Mr. Black makes me tick, I spoke out.

Yes, I can see that, Mr. Stevens, the professor paused. Now find another seat!

Jeremy was shocked that I had sat near him first of all and he suddenly had become intimidated and withdrawn. He didn’t say a word. Sometimes when you face a bully head on, they are not so bullyish. In fact, Jeremy got up and moved to another seat after he saw that I wasn’t backing down. I didn’t care that he was 6’2 and weighed about 230 all solid as fuck with a good 36 inch waist looking like he was pumped up on juice. I didn’t care. He was still one dark ass ugly fucker and I wasn’t going to back down just because he played on the football team. He was there on scholarship. I was there because I was bored and needed something to do with my free time and so I went to school.

Ok, the professor said after everyone settled down, Let’s finish roll call and then we will be talking about the human mind.

My paper was actually over brainwashing and if it truly was indeed such a thing. The only brainwashing I needed right now was a good long shower, and a tissue to get the precum off my dick that was causing my dick’s head to stick to my underwear. I fell asleep in class like I always do and usually when those 50 minutes is over, I miraculously wake up.

What you got going? Jason asked as class was over and we were heading out of the building.

Meeting my mom for lunch with my bruhs, I responded.

Oh yeah, Jason said curiously. Can I tag along?

Jason was this white guy that was trying his damnest to be my best friend. He was always wanting to come over, he was always trying to hook me up with his sister and he was always broke. Nah, man, I stated. You can hang. Jason was pretty fly for a white guy and acted more black than I did and my mom liked him but my dad thought something was up with him because of the way he kept watching me and leeched onto me like he was in love with me or something. I never entertained the thought. I need to go shower man, I let him know and I’ll meet you in Student Union in about 30. I informed.

Cool, Jason replied. I’ll just wait for you there.

On the way to my dorm room, I bumped into Mario, the only Alpha male I ever actually talked too because out of all the frat bruhs I knew, he was the only one who acted as if he had some sense and not like he was better than anyone. He kept it real whereas the other F.A.N’s were just that, fake ass niggah’s with attitudes but who could take dick on the low without any issues or give it and although I didn’t kiss and tell, I hated knowing that they treated everyone else like they were beneath them because of letters. Hell I had letters myself but decided that it was a waste of money to continue to be in something that I figured the brotherhood wasn’t what people thought it was and that all that hazing that people seemed to say wasn’t going on, existed. And by the way, if you had the money to buy your letters you could do that, on the low also. Hell I know a lot of bruhs with letters that didn’t have to go through the process because of money. And yes, believe it or not, money talks and opens a lot of closed doors.

What’s up? Mario asked me as I tried to walk pass him without speaking. You can’t speak.

Yeah, I can, I stumbled over my words a little. He made me nervous. He was ugly too but his attitude made him pretty to me.

In fact, if I had to call him a friend, he was the ugliest friend I had in my life. But it was just because he was a toothpick. He was 5’10, probably 155 pounds and that was wet, a 30 inch waist if not smaller, pretty teeth, dimples, low fade and dark ass eyes that looked almost like coal. He almost looked like he was a runner from Africa or Ethiopia or something. Hell all I knew with looks aside, he was fucking hot in the bed and he was the only person I ever looked at while having sex together and the only person I ever kissed for real. And when he put that 11 inch dick into my soul that was it. I couldn’t do it again because I wasn’t getting trapped or caught up in the thing people called love. I saw what it had done to my brothers with their girlfriends and my parents love of war or should I say tug-of-war because they went back and forth all the time. Nope love was not in my vocabulary.

And besides, Mario was from Louisiana and was a grad student studying Human Anatomy and his master thesis was on HIV/AIDS. I know, I helped him with it. And that was how I got to know him, we had a class together and we bumped into each other in the library a few times after that class and one thing led to another and then he talked me into joining the fraternal organization he belonged to, it was on for a bit and then when he fucked me, I learned to keep my distance and steer clear from all love related feelings.

I can speak, I returned again.

So why do you avoid me, when you see me, Mario asked.

I am not avoiding you, I lied. I… I…

It’s cool, Mario chimed in. I understand, I have that effect on people.

Whatever dude, I hissed out like a snake ready to strike.

See you around, he said dissing me.

Yeah, I responded. Not any time soon, I said under my breath and laughed.

I heard that by the way, Mario spoke out as he was walking off. He knew what was up I’m sure but oh well, not today.

That was it. Our conversation was over just as quickly as it began and you know what, I was good with it and I went and took a shower. I had other pressing things to focus on and that was seeing my bro’s and my mom and bringing my tag-a-long with me, Jason.

Should be fun, I’m sure, I was thinking to myself. I didn’t have my Black and chromed out Range, I was in my brothers, green and black bumblebee, convertible Camaro. He needed to use my jeep. And as Jason got in the car he saw the bag of Cheetos popcorn puff balls and empty cans of Mt. Dew. He grabbed a full can that was sitting on the floorboard of the car and opened it, handing me one as I dropped the top of the car.

Dude, you really need to clean the car up, Jason spoke out.

Man, it’s a beautiful day here in L.A, don’t fuck it up, I laughed and we sped off in the stick shift as I kicked it into reverse and then pulled out in 2nd gear out of the campus but opened it up down shifting for speed and up shifting for regular through traffic until we got to the restaurant on Rodeo. What could possibly go wrong? I questioned myself. What could possibly go wrong?

Storm Clouds

My mom was sitting outside in the open air having her drink served to her when I pulled up. It was almost like clockwork. After I pulled up, my other brothers pulled up also. I sat in the car for a moment and told Jason to hide the bag of cheese puffs under his seat and to open the door and drop the empty cans of Dew underneath the car because I knew Patrick would have a fit. He was the neat one of the three of us and he was perfect wherever he went and although he had the hazel green eyes out of the bunch, I have to admit my brother was fine. Hell Phil was fine too, with his greenish grey eyes. The sad thing is our eyes changed colors depending on what colors we wore, so if I wore something blue my eyes looked bluer and if they wore certain colors theirs would also blend with the greens and the browns. I loved it. Three fine ass bruthas that if we all cut our hair alike and wore the same colored contacts you couldn’t tell us a part. Well almost.

What’s up bubba? Patrick let out getting out of my Range with his white girlfriend Bethany. That bitch was bad and that was the only type of girls Patrick fucked around with. Again, he was the perfect one. Hair in place, dressed to kill every day, that Pepperdine mentality. Today was no different because he had his shirt opened a little exposing his semi-hairy chest and even though he was in jeans, he had the shoes, he was never out of place. And Bethany, damn, long flowing brunette colored hair, gorgeous green eyes and perfect, nothing wrong with her at all.

And then there was Phil. He was the nerd and always sported his little school boy specs trying to make himself look nerdy because he didn’t like the attention he got for his good looks. He was strictly for the intelligent girls and didn’t want that perfect person at all. He wanted someone he could relate to on a whole different level. He showed up with a bookworm. After all he was studying physics and it came easy for him. He brought his girlfriend Monica with him and she was a darker version Halle Berry type with long hair pulled into a ponytail and wore glasses. They were a perfect match.

And there I was, Jason. Damn, I was so busted. Although there was nothing going on between Jason and me, my brothers knew I got down because as triplets we told each other everything and although we had played around when we were younger in the tub and in the bed, we had no desire to play with one another as young adults. They were cool with it. Hell it was Cali and the three of us had went to San Fran several times on Gay Pride Day because they usually held it around our birthday’s on the 28th of June so it was great to party and hang out and be a little freaky. And since it was so close to the 4th of July, we always made a week or two out of the partying. We were joined by the hip. Literally. And Jason looked like the typical surfer blonde hair white guy with good looks and body and he had no clue I got down at all because he was always trying to get me to date his sister who had a crush on me. But I wasn’t down.

We all greeted each other and introduced our friends to each other so that they could get comfortable. But hell in a-round-a-bout way, they all knew each other so it was all good. My mom stood up as we approached her and we waved her to stay seated. And she sat back down. She looked like she was perturbed as we got closer and closer to her and we started staring at each other with worry. We had to duck and dodge the paparazzi also because our father was always in the news because of his hotels and suites and other things he bedeviled in, and trust me that was sometimes extra tricky. Hell I could see if we were famous or superstars, we were just regular people whose dad was rich and although he didn’t have a Hilton name behind him, he was definitely was out there at times.

Hey, mom, we sounded at the same time.

How’s my boys, she sounded. She looked radiant and like a typical mother with a little extra weight going on that she called stress gain. But she was quick to let us know she had a trainer working with her because she had to stay fit for her husband.

Mom, what’s going on, I questioned.

Yeah, Patrick released.

You made the text seem like it was urgent, Phil added. Something wrong?

Well, being that you boys brought your friends with you, she started. I don’t think we can talk about it here and now, she echoed.

Ok, we all looked at each other and knew that something was up. We motioned for the waiter, who happened to be a recent playmate of mine at a frat party who was working part-time there but going to school where I was going, to come over. He recognized me.

Hey Philip, he let out. I had him to lean down so I could whisper something in his ear and he then moved the girls and Jason to another table momentarily and brought them a bottle of wine to appeal to their senses.

Wow, it’s like that, Patrick and Phil both laughed at the same time.

Do you know everyone, Phil threw out.

So much for the good boy thing, Patrick laughed.

Boys, mom said. Your father is being blackmailed and his extortionist sent us these. She slid her phone over to us and we scanned through the pictures that were there. They had been forwarded to our father and he told her about them and sent her the pictures.

Dad wasn’t the type to just bend over and bow down. He refused to give in to the guys’ demand that’s why he told mom about his affair with his driver. Yeah, the pictures were of our father with his driver. Not the typical affair with the maid or the secretary, his driver of all people. We couldn’t do anything but look in awe. Hell we weren’t shocked because it was L.A. Not Arkansas, not Kansas. Not any place that acted as if they didn’t know guys slept around with other guys and women slept around with women. We were in California where everything is accepted and welcomed.

"I knew your father was messing with Antonio," my mom admitted as she drank her glass of white wine. To see her dark toffee colored skin and her high cheekbones reflecting the fact that she had some Indian blood in her, with her black curls also, was almost picture perfect too. The combination of my dad and my mom created us and we came out looking like the Rock.

Why didn’t you say something to any of us, I asked her.

Because, we had made a promise to one another a long time ago, she began, that if we felt that we wanted to step out on one another, to be honest and up front about it, and he was and I accepted it because divorce was and is something I don’t believe in. What was our mom saying to us? That there wasn’t going to be a divorce or anything and that she was going to stand by her man knowing what was up with him.

What are you saying? Phil asked. We were all kind of shocked because she was serious.

I’m not leaving my husband, mom let out. So, I just want to stop this before it gets out because no one is going to tear what my husband built down because of them trying to extort money from him or us. What happens in our family stays in our family. She was stern. She let us see the bitch coming out.

Mom, Patrick said. We love you and want what’s best for you and for dad.

I know, she responded. What’s best for us is to accept the things we can’t change.

But dad’s gay, I threw out.

And you’re gay too, my mom threw back. She shut me down. My brothers laughed. You don’t think a mom knows, she smiled. And I love you just the same. I couldn’t do anything but shut up. She knew and was cool with it. Damn that was like writing me a million dollar check and I didn’t have to pretend.

However, Phil said. Don’t put your business in the streets you know how the papers are around here, he reminded.

I’m always cautious, I stated.

Not always, with your cocky ass, Patrick let loose. So is there anything we can do, he asked.

Yeah, my mom smiled. You can help me find the bastard who’s trying to do this to our family and we can stop him. She was serious and if you could see the look that she had on her face as the wine glass hit her lips, you knew she meant business. I loved it. We were finally seeing a side of my mom that reminded me of how rich women should be at times, ruthless and daring and protecting their families and yet being understanding and accepting to things that couldn’t change.

And what about Antonio, Phil concerned himself with.

He’s still on payroll and at least I know it’s him and not some asshole on the streets that would only use your father for money or blackmail him like that, she admitted. Besides, he’s been with us for years.

Antonio was hot and my dad was hot too. My dad had that salt and pepper look about him that said he was a distinguished gentleman and at 55, he didn’t look a day over 40. He was 10 years older than my mom and hell; we were only 24 ourselves so it was all good on all levels. My dad just started working early and with his heritage he was able to start his own hotel business after working as a janitor in