Risita An Oblivious Star - The Unseen Stage

[Suchh]

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

 

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.

 

 

Story 1:

 

 Part 1:

 

Title: Risita An Oblivious Star - [b]The Unseen Stage[/b]

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.

[END of Part 1] 

[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]

[sarit11]

my dear writer

No need to open multiple threads for the story

Once the thread is approved your story can be seen in the section.

[Ajju bhaiii]

Besh valo start... Rishita k sanskaari r soti i rekho.... R buk e dudh thakle ro valo

[Dushtuchele567]

Valo hoyeche banglai likhbar try korun

[Suchh]

my dear writer

No need to open multiple threads for the story

Once the thread is approved your story can be seen in the section.

I am new here so I don't know much about how to post the thread, so I posted the same thread couple of times. Even I want to start a poll too but that too I didn't understand how to do that. From next time I'll post once only.

[Suchh]

Besh valo start... Rishita k sanskaari r soti i rekho.... R buk e dudh thakle ro valo

Thank you for your first positive reply. Apnar suggestion ta mathaye rakhbo.. Buke e dudh ta may be Part 4 e asbe, hotha kore niye asle storyer flow ta hoye toh thik kore maintain korte parbo na tai aste aste jekono bhalo suggestion gulo story te induct korte thakbo time to time.

[Mustaq]

Good story carry on

[Suchh]

Valo hoyeche banglai likhbar try korun

 Thank you for your reply, asha korbo Part 2 tao jete valo lage. Aar Banglai oto ta dokhol nei amar aar prochur bhul o hoye, tai Engish ar Banglai mix korei likhte parbo jete flow ta bojaye rakte pari. 

[Suchh]

Good story carry on

 Thank you, I'll try my best 

[behka]

very nice start, panty porte bhule giyeche ei part ta bhalo hoyeche, nice idea

[Maphesto]

Rishita r humiliation hobe to kaku der hat e?

[Suchh]

very nice start, panty porte bhule giyeche ei part ta bhalo hoyeche, nice idea

 Thank you! bhalo lagche sune khushi holam. Aro jeta bhalo lagebe in upcoming parts setao janaben 

[Suchh]

Rishita r humiliation hobe to kaku der hat e?

 Thank You! Risitar ojante toh humiliation hochhei.. Apni kirokom humiliation er kotha bhabchen ba chaichen ba apanr kono feedback ba suggestion thakle seta please share korben. Story er flow er sathe match korle setao add kore upcoming part gulote induct korar chesta korbo. But apnader khule bolte hobe. 

[Suchh]

Aaj Part 2 ta post korbo. Asha korchi eto bhalo lagbe.

[Suchh]

Part 2:
 
Chapter 6: The Sliding Secret

 

Weeks later, the monsoon had given way to a crisp autumn, and Risita found herself on another makeshift stage, this time in the sleepy village of Kamalpur. The air was cooler, but the warmth of the audience’s anticipation was just as palpable. Tonight, a new set of aged kakus managed the stage lights: the stoic, bespectacled Ghosh Kaku (65), the notoriously jovial Pal Kaku (58), and the silent, ever-observant Mondal Kaku (72). Debu, as always, was front and center, his chest puffed out with pride.

Risita, in a beautiful indigo saree, felt a slight breeze against her legs. She had remembered her white low-waist bikini panty this time, a creamy soft barrier, but in her usual pre-show rush, the petticoat had once again been forgotten. The flimsy saree, though thicker than her previous one, still lent itself to the kakus’ wicked designs under the precisely angled spotlights.

 

 

"Shona, the next one is 'Jodi Tare Nai Chini Go'," Risita called out to Debu, her voice clear and melodious as she began the soul-stirring melody. She moved with a gentle grace, her 34C-30-38 figure swaying rhythmically. The lights, expertly manipulated by Ghosh Kaku, played over her, making the saree cling and then drift, hinting at the pale skin beneath.

Pal Kaku adjusted a spotlight, a wide, lewd grin spreading across his face. "Dekho, Ghosh-da, aajke Panty porechhe Risita . Kintu petticoat nei, aar amader light er jaadu toh achhei!" he whispered, nudging Ghosh Kaku. Ghosh Kaku grunted, his eyes fixed on Risita, a glint of perverse amusement behind his spectacles. "Hyan, kintu Panty-ta besh low-waist... dekhi koto-khon thake jaygay," he muttered, subtly angling the light to focus on her lower body as she performed a gentle spin.

And then, as Risita launched into a particularly energetic crescendo, her body twisting slightly, a sudden, almost imperceptible shift occurred. Her white low-waist bikini panty, loosened by her movements and the absence of a petticoat to hold it in place, slid ever so slightly to one side. Just a fraction, but enough.

Mondal Kaku, who had been silent until now, gasped softly, his eyes widening. A single, dark, long curly pussy hair, escaping from the edge of her mature hairy puffy pussy lips, became faintly visible beneath the sheer indigo fabric of her saree. Then, as Risita leaned forward slightly, gesturing with her hand, one edge of her mature hairy puffy pussy lips, now partially exposed by the displaced panty, became obscenely distinct. It was a rounded, plush outline, hinting at the full, soft mound beneath, and with each breath she took, it seemed to swell and contract, a silent, primal rhythm visible only to the men backstage. Long, dark curly pussy hairs hung downwards from that exposed, mature puffy pussy lip, a wild, untamed fringe against the delicate fabric.

"O ma go... Dekho Risitar Panty-ta ek dike ki bhabe shore geche!" Pal Kaku hissed, his lund already beginning to stiffen inside his dhoti. "Dekho, dekho! Risita 'r… mature hairy puffy pussy lips… pura dekha jachhe." He licked his lips, his eyes gleaming with illicit pleasure.

Risita, still singing, felt an unfamiliar coolness where the fabric usually clung. A sudden, subtle tingle. Her eyes darted downwards for a split second, and then quickly back to the audience. Her heart skipped a beat. She realized. Her panty had slid. One of her mature hairy puffy pussy lip was practically showing through the thin saree, with those tell-tale long curly pussy hairs.

With practiced grace, Risita incorporated a hand movement into her singing, a sweep of her arm down her side, hoping to subtly adjust the errant panty. Risita thought she was being discreet, blending it into the flow of her performance. But it was useless. The white low-waist bikini panty remained stubbornly displaced. One of Risita’s exposed mature hairy puffy pussy lip continued to press against the thin saree, the long curly pussy hairs a dark fringe against the indigo Saree.

Risita tried again, a slightly more exaggerated ass sway, another hand brushing her thigh, as if part of an emotional gesture in the song. Still nothing. Still Risita's panty would not budge to the right place. Her efforts, meant to be unnoticeable, were laid bare to the kakus.

"Dekhli? Dekhli? Sanskari Risita  ki kore Panty thik korar chesta korche!" Ghosh Kaku chuckled, a low, guttural sound, his lund pressing hard against his dhoti. "Kichu hobe na....... o jotoi chesta koruk na keno. Amader light-er khela aar Risitar shore jawa panty-ta Risitar panty-er side theke shob dekhiye dichhe amaderke." Mondal Kaku, usually quiet, now let out a low groan. "Bhagwan, ki shundor… Risita toh janeo na je amra sob dekhe nilam… oi mature hairy puffy pussy lips… ki rokom kore fulche aar aslilbhabe sankuchita hochhe…" His lund was now throbbing, a deep, insistent ache.

 

They watched, mesmerized, as Risita, still maintaining her composure with her coy smile and her beautiful voice, made a few more subtle attempts. A feigned itch, a quick adjustment of her pallu that momentarily obscured the view for the audience but did nothing for the angle of the stage lights. Each failed attempt only heightened the kakus’ perverse obscene delight.

"Risita , koto sanskari dekho. Accidentally emon bhul hoye giyeche, tarporo koto shundor kore lukate chaiche... kintu amra toh sob dekhe feli," Pal Kaku whispered, his voice thick with lust. "Oi mature hairy puffy pussy lips jeta prottek ta shwashe fulche aar sankuchita hochhe, ar panty-er nich theke oi lomba lomba chul… hay re!" His hand, almost subconsciously, dipped into his dhoti, gently caressing his straining lund.

Debu, completely oblivious, clapped enthusiastically from the front row. "Ki gaan Risita! Oshadharon!" he called out, his smile beaming. Risita smiled back, a little forced, then resumed her singing, her voice unwavering despite the internal panic and the awkwardness she felt. She subtly spread her legs a little wider, hoping the fabric would fall differently, but it only served to stretch the saree taut over that vulnerable, exposed area, making the outline of her mature hairy puffy pussy lips even more prominent, the long curly pussy hairs seeming to stand out in the spotlight.

The kakus exchanged knowing glances, their secret game unfolding deliciously. They remembered the last show, the stories that had spread among their circle. "Mon ache, Das ki korechilo?" Ghosh Kaku murmured, a sly grin on his face. "Risita  jokhon mic check korte eshe Panty aar petticoat bhule jabar jonno oi saree-er opor diye tar mature hairy puffy pussy lips ta dekha jachhilo, ar oi lomba lomba chul gulo jhule royechilo, Das-er lund toh shob kichu chere diyechilo... creamy thick sticky white hot cum chorie diyechilo oi dhoti'r vitore!"

Pal Kaku snickered. "Hyan, ar Risita  koto innocent vabe jiggesh korlo, 'Kaku, aapnar kichu hoyeche?' O jantoi na je oi kaku'r lund tar jonno pagol hoye creamy thick sticky white hot cum chere diyeche!" He watched as Risita moved, her saree still betraying her, the white low-waist bikini panty still askew, and her mature hairy puffy pussy lips, with their dark long curly pussy hairs hanging downwards, a constant, pulsating presence under the stage lights.

The thought of Risita's pure, cultured innocence juxtaposed with the raw, carnal display ignited a fresh wave of heat in Pal Kaku. His own lund was now painfully hard, throbbing with a desperate need. He could almost feel the rough texture of those long curly pussy hairs against his fingers, imagine the softness of her mature hairy puffy pussy lips.

Mondal Kaku, observing Risita's futile attempts to adjust her panty, felt a mix of pity and profound lust. "Bechari… jotoi chesta koruk, amader chokhe toh sob porche. Tai toh bhabei Risita nijeke jotoi sanskari rakhar chesta koruk na keno... kintu amra jani ki cholche." He let out a low, almost inaudible growl, his lund pressing against the fabric of his dhoti, a thick vein pulsing under his hand. He imagined leaning in, just as Das Kaku had, and seeing that magnificent display even closer. The thought alone was enough to make him feel light-headed.

Risita, sensing her continuous efforts were futile, decided to ignore it. She focused on her singing, her voice soaring, completely oblivious to the fact that every micro-movement of her body, every breath she took, was making her partially revealed mature hairy puffy pussy lips swell and contract with shocking clarity through the thin saree. The long curly pussy hairs, catching the light, seemed to glisten, an unintentional beacon for the kakus' hungry gazes.

The show continued, Risita pouring her heart into each note, her face radiating serenity and artistry. She is a star, shining brightly on her stage, while just behind the curtain of her obliviousness, the old kakus reveled in their secret, lewd theatre, their lunds aching, their minds consumed by the accidental spectacle of Risita 's mature hairy puffy pussy lips and her battle with a sliding white low-waist bikini panty. The forgotten petticoat and the precisely angled lights were merely the accomplices in this ongoing, unseen stage play.

 

-End of Part 2-

[Dushtuchele567]

Please at the end the naive innocent sanskaari Rishita should become Kakus cum dumpster. Rishita will love her husband Debu and will want to be loyal wife for him. But she have to serve all the Kakus needs unwillingly

[Maphesto]

 Thank You! Risitar ojante toh humiliation hochhei.. Apni kirokom humiliation er kotha bhabchen ba chaichen ba apanr kono feedback ba suggestion thakle seta please share korben. Story er flow er sathe match korle setao add kore upcoming part gulote induct korar chesta korbo. But apnader khule bolte hobe. 

1. Risita jmn peticoat porte vule jai hote pare ekdin bra porteo vule jabe.........tokhon konovabe uncle ra oke puro vijiye debe .........hote pare stage e rain dance theme chol6ilo.....ete or sorir er curve gulo ro sposhto hobe, .......mai er upor lalche bota bojha jabe, forsa lodlode pod bojha jabe

2. Uncle ra konovabe boka Risitar normal panty palte tar jaigai vibrator panty rekhe dite pare ..............oblivious Risita tarahuro te oi vibrator panty porei stage e chole asbe ........tokhon or gaan chola kalin uncle ra vibrator ta chalu kore debe.... Vibrator er speed barabe....Risita nije ke samle gan korar chesta korbe.......hote pare Risita ki6u bujhte parbe na ki ho66e.... Kin2 vibrator er jonno or gan er sur tal hariye felbe

3. Risita ke sobsomai saree i poran.... Saree always sexy....r tar sathe jodi sakha, sindur hoi ro valo

[Maphesto]

Durdanto lekhoni.....durdanto golpo

[Saj890]

Darun