Author’s Note: I am in the last stages of part one of this three part piece. I am stuck, frustrated, distracted and tormented by my inability to complete this and my anxiousness to finally post SOMETHING. So here I am, and here it is. Just a taste of my upcoming, first fic gumbo called "Rememory". I welcome and appreciate feedback. Thank you.



WIP: Rememory




He blows out his mouth as he runs his hand over his face.

“Okay…” he begins, eyes roam the ceiling in thought. “So… ‘jahm-bow,’”

“Yes, jambo,” she smiles as her face hovers over his supported by her bent arm.

“Hello,” he states to confirm.

“Nidiyo,” she agreed.

“Hah-bar-ree?” his face contorts in question.

“NiDIyo!” in delight, thrilled in his progress. “Also for ‘hello’ or ‘how are you’.”

“And, uh…” okay, slowly now, get it right… ”nin-nah-mim-bah.”

She squeals in surprise, barely containing her furious giggles with her hand over her mouth.

“What?”

As he found amusement and endearment in her pronunciation of his language, she found the same in his of hers. With legs in various combinations of entwinement, they would lie in bed playing tongues, speaking tongues.

“What is it?” he demands with laughter in his voice. His eyes sparkle as he watches her demonic possession by giggles.

She finally catches her breath and composure. She takes her free hand and plops hit playfully on his chest.

“So you are with child, Logan?” she teasingly confirms with raised eyebrows.

“That’s what I said?” a wide smirk spreading over his face. Yeah, that IS funny.

She slowly nods as her fingers busy themselves with his chest hair. His grey eyes runs over her face settling on her blue eyes. He imagines the beautiful daughters this woman can create. They will make their future husbands insanely lucky men.

She tugs on the hair caught in her fingers, making him yelp in surprise. Message received. He lets out another frustrated breath while he thinks of more practical phrases in her language.

“How do you say…”

“Hapana!” she interrupts firmly, determined for him to learn properly. She pronounces slowly and restarts the question for him, “Unasemaje kwa…”

“Oo-nah-say-mah-je-kwa… ‘I want a beer’?”

“What?!” she gets out with another set of laughs. He squints his eyes in mock seriousness, his lips smirk. She throws her hand up, “Goddess!”

She bunches her lips up in thought. “You like it cold, yes?”

“Nidiyo,” he nods. He starts to finger the hollow at the base of her throat.

She ignores his intended distraction. “Uh… Tafadhali nataka bia baridi.”

His hand drops. No playtime now. “Toffa-dolly hot-kah-,“ he starts quickly.

“Polepole,” and then did as she instructed, slowly. “Tafadhali… nataka… bia… baridi.”

He repeats just as slowly, enunciating each syllable. “Tah-feh-dah-lee nah-ta-kah bee-ya… uh… bar-rah-dee.”

The mattress suddenly quakes with her laughter “No!” she shrieks. “NO-no-no-no-no-no-no!” she trails off as her face collapses unto his chest, shaking back in forth in amusement.

“What? What did I say?” he says in exasperation, tossing his hand to the ceiling.

“You just-“ she barely got out between breaths. She lifts her face, “it was just WRONG!” she merrily spat out. She is still caught up in her melodic laughter, suddenly violated by a fierce “snort”. Her hand shoots up to cover her mouth again and she collapses backward onto the pillow lost in her surprised, again giggle-ridden, shock.

He just lies there watching her in amused fascination. First of all, how did such an ordinary, albeit unattractive, sound come from this beautiful and carefree woman? And why is this woman with him? And why does he question his happiness with just-this-one woman? And when will she finally stop giggling at him?

With heavy controlled pants, she composes her self. She turns to look at him with an exhausted look still filled with pleasure.

“Eh,” she throws her hand up in exaggerated resignation. “At least you stopped asking for curse words.”

His eyes quickly roam the ceiling again as he tries to remember that name she keeps calling him.

“Mzungu chisi,” he summons slowly with a widening grin.

Another light chuckle from her as raises herself to again settle above his head. “Yes, you are a ‘crazy white man’,” she purrs into his cheek. He laughs. “Why does he let he get away with that?” he wonders to himself. She then brushes his lips with hers, reminding him why and he growls in answer with a playful sneer.

He flips them both, suddenly shifting their arrangement in the bed so he’s now on top of her -- the unexpected movement forcing a surprised screech from her. He is suddenly warm with passion from the sound she emitted. He likes the fact that she’s a screamer.

He positions his lower body between her legs and easily cradles her head in his hands with his arms beneath her shoulder blades. She moans in delight at the ease their bodies conform to this familiar position. He begins to nibble on the area right behind her ear and she smiles broadly, loving being manipulated by him so expertly.

“How do you say ‘please’?” he rumbles softly to her, punctuated by forward movement with his groin.

“Ta-FA-DHA-li,” she gasps, reacting to his thrust.

He gently rubs the side of her nose with his.

“Are you happy?” he breathes into her mouth.

She cruelly pauses, forcing him to look at her sqaurely, eyebrow raised, in question.

“Nimefuhari…” she utters tenderly as she smiles, “sana,” she punctuates with an eyebrow jump.

“Mmm.” He half-smirks at her precociousness. His grey eyes lock on to her blues.

“Oo-nah-say-mah-jay-kwa ‘love’?”

“Nakupenda.” Her hand reaches above him and she runs her fingers along his hairline, her blue eyes monitoring its progress.

“Nakupenda wewe,” she whispers earnestly. She then looks back at his greys and smiles.

“Nakupenda wewe, Darlin’,” spoken in resolute seriousness as he leans forward to kiss her. She captures his lower lip between her teeth and gently bites. He reacts with a passionate groan and deepens the kiss. It was already past the point of no return when she whimpered “please.” His hips start to move over her with more focus and intent.

“How do you say ‘beautiful’?” he groans, soon about to re-prioritize his ability to speak.

Breath of jasmine. His lips hover open over hers to breathe it in. With the faintest of touches, he feels her lips curve and circle to form the vowel. She exhales softly to sound it out. He envisions the roll of her tongue while drinking in the vibrations of the deliciously repetitive consonants…

“Ororo.”





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