Risita An Oblivious Star - The Unseen Stage

[Suchh]

   Risita An Oblivious Star - The Unseen Stage

[b][b]Eta amar protom Story tai hoy toh onek jayegate bhul hote pare, kintu ami chesta korbo emon bhabe likhte jete pore apnader bhalo lage.[/b][/b]

 

Aar apnara ki bhalo laglo ar ki bhalo laglo na seta amake janaben. Apnader feedback ta khub important kichu bhalo lekhar jonne.

 

Aar apnader suggestion gulo kaje anar chesta korbo, hoye toh shob suggestion amar storyer sathe jabe na kintu kono suggestion amar storyer sathe gele tahale apnader suggestion gulo kaje lagabo.

 

 

 

 

Part 1:

 

Chapter 1: The Oblivious Star

The warm breeze of a Bengali summer evening swept through the small village of Chandrapur as the audience settled into their seats. The makeshift stage, decorated with bright marigolds and flickering fairy lights, buzzed with anticipation. At the center of it all stood Risita—a 36-year-old, fair-skinned Bengali housewife with a voice that could melt hearts.

Dressed in a soft, thin saree—the kind that clung delicately to her lush 34C-30-38 figure—Risita adjusted her microphone, blissfully unaware that in her usual hurry, she had forgotten to wear her panty and petticoat beneath.

"Shona, the first song is 'Tumi Je Amar", Risita called out to her husband, Debu, who sat proudly in the front row, beaming at his wife.

Little did they know—several pairs of hungry eyes were already fixated on Risita’s every move.

 

 

Chapter 2: The Kakus’ Secret Game

Backstage, the aged kakus—Biren Kaku (68), Sen Kaku (55), Bimal Kaku (76), and Das Kaku (70)—whispered among themselves as they angled the stage lights with practiced precision.

"Arre, Biren-da, dekho na… Risita  ke sareer niche…" Sen Kaku hissed, adjusting a spotlight so that it shone straight through Risita’s flimsy saree.

And there it was—Risita’s mature hairy puffy pussy lips, faintly visible beneath the fabric, swelling and contracting obscenely with each breath she took as she sang with a coy smile. The long, dark curls hanging down made the older men’s lunds twitch and waving in anticipation.

"Bhagwan… eto sundari… eto sanskari… kintu koto oblivious…" Bimal Kaku muttered, his lund already leaking pre-cum.

The kakus had perfected their game. The lights were angled in such a way that only they—and not the audience her husband—could see Risita’s obscene exposure.

 

 

Chapter 3: The Unintentional Show

As Risita gracefully swayed to the music, bending slightly to greet a little girl in the front row, her plump soft ass cheeks parted ever so slightly—revealing just a hint of her ass hole beneath the sheer saree.

"Haye Ram!" Das Kaku gasped, clutching his dhoti as his lund pulsed violently and leaking pre-cum. "She doesn’t even know…" her ass hole…. Uffff….. visible to us.

And Risita Oblivious, she continued singing, occasionally pausing to adjust her saree pallu—pulling it back over her shoulder, completely unaware that it did nothing to hide the lewd view from the kakus.

 

 

Chapter 4: The Lewd Breakdown

During a break, Risita approached Das Kaku to discuss the microphone feedback.

"Kaku, ektu sound ta check korun na?" Risita asked sweetly, standing just inches away from him.

Das Kaku’s jaw dropped. Her legs slightly apart, the faint outline of her mature hairy puffy pussy lips glistening under the stage lights—swelling obscenely with each breath she took.

And then—it happened.

With a choked grunt, Das Kaku’s lund twitched uncontrollably, squirting creamy thick sticky white hot cum right there, staining his dhoti.

"Kaku, aapnar kichu hoyeche?" Risita frowned in concern.

"N-no… Risita … j-just… the heat…" the old man stammered, face red with shame and lewd pleasure.

Risita simply nodded, patting his shoulder reassuringly before turning away—her saree slipping slightly, giving another obscene glimpse of her ass cheeks as she walked off.

One by one, the kakus lost control, their lunds unable to resist the sanskari but unintentionally filthy display.

 

 

Chapter 5: The Oblivious Couple

Debu, still clapping proudly from the front row, leaned toward his wife during the next performance break.

"Risita, tumi ajke khub sundor lagchho!" he smiled.

"Shona, tumi besh bhalo audience je!" Risita giggled, adjusting her saree—completely unaware of how the stage lights betrayed her.

Meanwhile, behind her, Biren Kaku was biting his fist, his lund throbbing as he watched the slow, rhythmic movement of her mature hairy puffy pussy lips beneath the sheer fabric.

"Maa er odhom… ei meye toh puro shorir diye amader ke pagol kore dilo…" he groaned.

Risita, ever the professional, turned back toward the audience and resumed her singing—her innocent, cultured demeanor in stark contrast to the lewd chaos she unknowingly incited.

Epilogue: The Show Must Go On

By the end of the night, not a single kaku was left unspent. Sticky dhotis, muffled groans, and shaky legs—they had all fallen victim to Risita’s oblivious exhibition.

Yet, she remained utterly unaware—adjusting her saree, chatting sweetly with the kakus, and even scolding one for sweating too much.

"Kaku, aapni besh gorom hoye gechhen… rest koren ekto!" she said kindly, patting Sen Kaku’s back—completely missing the freshly dried creamy thick sticky white hot cum stain on his kurta.

As Risita and Debu left the stage hand-in-hand, the kakus exchanged knowing glances.

"Aar ekta show chai…" Bimal Kaku sighed dreamily.

And so, the unseen stage play continued—one oblivious performance at a time.

[b][b]-END of Part 1-[/b][/b]