Fast forward six weeks and it was now about a week and a half before Halloween. One of my best friends, Jeff, and his wife Jenna have a Halloween party every year, so I asked Milan if she’d like to attend with me. She agreed on one condition: she picked our costumes.

Milan said our costumes would be a secret until we got ready to go to the party on Saturday night. I was curious, of course, but figured she’d pick something fairly tame. When she arrived at my house that afternoon, she had two garment bags, each marked with our names.

“Garment bags? Didn’t you buy something off the internet?” I asked. “Did you rent us costumes?”

She stopped instantly in the foyer, turned to look at me, and said, “Buy? Rent? No, I made our outfits the past two weeks. That is why I’ve been so busy in the evening, ‘working on a project.”

“Ok, I’m impressed. So, what are we going as tonight?” I inquired.

Milan smiled, telling me, “Let me put on my costume first. I’m sure you will be able to figure it out. Give me fifteen or twenty minutes. I need to do my makeup and hair, then get dressed.”

She went to the master bedroom and came back out to the living room about twenty minutes later. I heard her footsteps, so I stood up and faced the foyer. Milan stepped into view, and I was stunned.

She was dressed in a very detailed costume of Jasmine from Disney’s Aladdin. It was turquoise in color with gold accents, gold bling, and turquoise jewels. Milan’s hair looked almost identical to what I could recall of the characters from years ago when my kids watched the movie on DVD at least a thousand times.

“You look gorgeous, babe. I had no idea you were an expert seamstress,” I slowly said for emphasis.

“My mother taught me at a young age. It is a tradition in our family to always make your sari,” Milan said. “She helped me make my sewing pattern since I could not find one to buy online.”

“Very impressive. What else do I not know about you?” I teased.

“Hurry up. Your costume is on the bed,” she said. “We’re going to be late.”

Laughing, I told her, “We don’t need to arrive right at 7:00 pm.”

Thirty minutes later we were walking into Jeff and Christy’s house. Off their foyer, in their office. they had a photo station set up and everyone was “required” to take their picture upon arrival. One “nice” photo and one “crazy” as they had an assortment of props for guests to goof off with.

After the photos, we made our way to the large great room where some of the guests were mingling, while most were outside thanks to the great weather Oak Valley was having in late October. Jeff goes all out for this party food and beverage-wise, while Jenna starts decorating the first week of October. We ordered drinks from the bartender and headed outside.

This was the first time most of my friends would meet Milan, so I prepared her for “Twenty Questions” from my nosey friends. Most of the other women led with questions about our costumes, while the guys gawked at her exposed cleavage and toned midsection as they asked about her career. Thankfully Milan did know a few people, so she wasn’t too overwhelmed with the nearly seventy guests.

Towards the middle of the night, Christy passed out “ballots” for each guest to vote for several awards: best costume, scariest costume, sexiest costume. An hour later she and Jeff announced the winners.

Jeff first gave out the scariest award, to Chad, who had some sort of zombie character with really great face makeup. Next, he said, “And, for the first time in eleven years we have a double winner, for best and sexiest costume. I’m sure everyone can figure out who this is, yes, Milan, congratulations!

She squeezed my hand, and I could see behind her mocha skin and makeup her cheeks turning a bit red with embarrassment. “What do I do?” she asked.

“Go get your prizes from Jeff and Christy,” I whispered.

Jeff handed her the cute little four-inch trophies, and Milan and Christy hugged. Christy took the mic from her husband, “And, I want to point out that Milan made both her and Steve’s costumes.”

After the awards, Milan and I stayed about another thirty minutes, simply just saying good night to most of the guests. It was well past 11:00 pm, and it had been a busy week, so we were both very tired and were looking forward to sleeping in on Sunday.

We returned to my place and placed our costumes in their bags, hung them up, and got ready for bed. As we crawled into bed, we shared a few soft kisses, snuggled up, and were soon fast asleep.

**

I woke up to the faint sound of my shower running. I didn’t even open my eyes, she was in the shower. After rubbing my eyes, I slowly opened them. The room was filled with soft natural light. Milan had opened the drapes but left the sheer curtains in place to diffuse the bright morning eastern sun.

“Mind if I join you?” I asked, standing in the bathroom.

Milan turned in the giant walk-in shower, and smiled, “You’re always welcome to join me.” She giggled and continued, “Especially when you have morning wood.”

I looked down. Yep. I was erect and pointing upward. I looked her in the eyes as I fondled my cock and balls. “Maybe you can help me with this?” I joked.

Milan held out her hand, and I joined her in the double overhead shower. The water was a perfect temperature, and I let it run over my body as I stood with my eyes closed. The next thing I knew, she was using the shower puff to wash my entire body, paying special attention to my genitals and backside.

“I’m already clean, but feel free to wash me. I love it when you wash me,” she said seductively.

I took the hint, and took the puff from her, added some gel soap, and started caressing her body. Milan pulled me closer, and we embraced, kissed passionately, and her hand found my rock-hard morning wood and began stroking me slowly.

The next several minutes we kissed, caressed, and teased each other. Milan whispered into my ear, “Fuck me.” She then bent over and had her hands on the shower wall, legs spread wide, and turned her head to look at me, “And I want your cum in my mouth.”

Grasping my throbbing man-meat, I smiled at my East Indian Goddess and told her, “It will be my pleasure.”

Rubbing my reddish-purple mushroom-shaped head up and down her slit, I slowly pushed into her slick love tunnel. We both sighed and moaned with that first initial phase of pleasure. I slowly buried my entire seven inches, and methodically pulled most of myself out, leaving just the crown in her kitty. Once again, I went in and almost out. And a third time, albeit a bit faster.

My palm made a swift move and smacked her right ass cheek startling Milan. I started thrusting my cock in and out of her box, both hands holding her hips. “And shoot my load in your mouth. Got it,” I said out loud.

We hadn’t fucked for a short three minutes when I could feel her vaginal walls start to quiver. Milan was moaning lightly as I continued assaulting her pussy with my cum cannon. I reached around and squeezed both breasts aggressively, then my fingers found her hard nipples. I pinched and pulled on the dark brown morsels. That sent a signal to her hot wet pink “She Shed” and she squeezed my cock with her pussy as the first wave of pleasure hit her.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck! I’m gonna cum!” she exclaimed.

“Cum for me!” I commanded in a stern voice. “Cum on my cock!”

After her next wave finally finished, I slowly pulled out and my dick was coated with her milky white cum. Milan instantly licked my member, tasting her sex glaze. One hand started stroking me, while the other was holding a butt cheek, pulling me towards her.

“Mmmm, I taste good. No wonder you like eating me,” she teased. “Now gimmie your jizz!” Her hand pumped faster and faster. “Cum for me, Steve!”

I could feel my balls tingle and my legs get weak. I was close. Soon, spunk was going to erupt from my cock like lava from a volcano. “I’m gonna cum!” I announced loudly in the large echoing shower. “Open wide!”

My eyes looked down to see my love with her mouth wide open, tongue out, and her eyes looking at me like a pornstar in every movie. But this was real. Just as I was about to nut, I grabbed her head and pulled it toward my cock.

“AGH! Fuck! Fuck yes,” I mumbled as I shot several blasts of my jizz into Milan’s mouth.

I let go of her head and she slowly slid her mouth and lips off my semi-hard cock. Once fully past her lips she slowly milked the rest of my spunk from my cock, producing a large drop of cum on my glans. Milan looked at me, smiled, and licked it off. She then teased me by swirling her tongue around my mushroom ridge.

“That was tasty, thank you,” she giggled.

I helped her up to her feet and we kissed, our tongues darting in and out of each other’s mouths. I could feel her rock-hard nipples pressed against my upper torso as I softly caressed her ass cheeks.

We rinsed off in the warm water and exited the shower.

**

It was four weeks until Thanksgiving, and I wanted Milan to meet my children. I had been going to San Diego to visit them every year since my wife’s death, spending the long weekend and simply enjoying our time together. We had a simple routine of spending Thursday together, then I’d see one on Friday and the other on Saturday, and then a final brunch on Sunday before I flew back to Oak Valley.

As Milan and I had dinner one evening, I casually asked, “I’d like you to come to San Diego with me to meet my kids over Thanksgiving.” I paused a moment. “Will that fly with your parents?”

“I’d love to meet your kids,” she said instantly. “And that will give me a break from family. My parents won’t mind, since I’m with you. But Nageena (the bitchy sister-in-law) won’t be happy she’ll have to do all the cooking.”

“Great, I’ll book the flights after dinner,” I told Milan. “You better tell your parents this week.”

“I love how you’re so concerned about my parents,” she said.

Knowing how East Indian families respect their elders, I wanted to make sure everything I did with Milan was going to meet their approval. I did not want to disrespect them. “You know,” I said, I’ll call them tomorrow from the office.”

**

Our trip to San Diego was a bit different for me as I’d usually stay with one of my kids in their guest room, but I had booked a hotel for Milan and I. To be honest, I wasn’t sure how comfortable Milan might be in their condos. Plus, I didn’t want to impose on my kids, since it was the first time they’d be meeting her.

On Thursday, we had our traditional Thanksgiving Day dinner at one of the nicer restaurants by the ocean. This year I went all out, and we went to the Hotel Del Coronado. They offered a huge buffet with every traditional Thanksgiving dish, plus ham, prime rib, and salmon.

As Milan and I drove back towards our La Jolla hotel, she asked if we could go down to the beach to watch the upcoming sunset. “Great idea,” I told her.

We pulled into the La Jolla Cove Beach parking lot and we noticed a crew of three setting up some items for what Milan figured was a weekend wedding. There was a small, raised stage, a dozen chairs on each side of a make-believe aisle, and the crew was just bolting down a small wooden white arch.

Walking past the nuptial site Milan asked, “Wedding tomorrow?”

One gentleman replied, "Three, actually. 11 am, 1 pm, and 3 pm.”

Looking at the setup, Milan said, “That will look nice tomorrow once they add some flowers.”

We went a little bit further toward the ocean and I laid down a blanket and we sat down watching and listening to the crashing waves. The waterline was packed with couples and multi-generational families after their large Thanksgiving dinner, taking a nice walk on this unseasonably warm November afternoon.

After about twenty minutes I commented that we should probably head back to the car since once the sun goes down we’d have a difficult walk in the dark crossing the one hundred feet to our rental car. As we walked past the wedding site I pulled on Milan’s hand as I veered off toward the stage.

“C’mon, let’s be the bride and groom,” I teased.

She shook her head as she laughed. “No, they’re carrying down more stuff,” pointing to the work crew we spoke with earlier.

I gave her another tug and joked, “Humor me.”

After we stepped up onto the ten-by-ten stage, I put my arm around her shoulder, and we focused on the sunset. We guessed we had about five minutes left of the fading light.

About a minute later Milan said, “We should get back to the car, it’s getting dark.”

“You’re right,” I said. I turned ninety degrees to face Milan. “Hold on. Don’t move.”

“What?” she questioned.

I slowly went down to one knee and pulled a small box from my left pocket. “Miss Milan Singh, I love you. You love me. Four years ago, when Christie died, I learned that life is short,” I said slowly. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?” I asked.

She was speechless as she looked down at me. Her eyes turned into waterfalls and tears slowly began rolling down her cheeks. After about five seconds, she finally spoke, “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you, Steve Berg!”

The End, Chapter 4

The End of the series