Jillian Jinxed
by Pan
Chapter 1
Jillian couldn’t help but grin when the idea struck her.
It was wrong—she knew that. It was wrong, and a little bit naughty…but the priest deserved it. That, she was sure of.
And so she slowly, deliberately turned her back on the old Irish man, and slowly began pulling the hem of her skirt up.
As the fabric crept up her backside, she bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. She wanted to turn around and see his reaction, see if he’d noticed—but that could wait.
Jillian had been raised Catholic, and so she knew all the rhetoric—lusting after a woman was as bad as sleeping with one, and by now a lifetime of lust had surely built up in the old man. She was going to make him sin—and he totally deserved it.
The angry splutter she could hear told her that the priest had certainly noticed her actions, and after a brief glance around to make sure that there was no one else within sight, Jillian surprised even herself by reaching around and pulling down her panties.
From where he was sitting, she knew he’d be able to see everything—the curve of her butt, a slight peek of brown-eye. She even bent over slightly, so that as well as her ass (which she knew was her best feature) he’d be able to see her pussy.
That’d show him.
The carriage had been completely empty when Jillian had entered. She was on the train into town, heading to an interview for a new job. It was a position in accounts for Buzz, the new energy drink that had sprung up overnight. It was supposed to be a great office—just like her, everyone was in their mid-twenties.
She was dressed formally for the interview, but one of the perks of the Buzz offices was a much looser dress-code. Jillian had no real objection to wearing office-wear, but the prospect of a more relaxed working environment held quite a lot of appeal.
The skirt, she hadn’t been entirely sure about, but her roommate Jeff had assured her that she looked great, and so she’d decided to take the chance.
Some kind of track problems had caused two trains on the same schedule to arrive within a few minutes of each other, and so Jillian had taken the mostly-empty one, to give her some space to clear her head. She’d sat by the door, mentally going over some practice questions when the priest had entered.
“Excuse me,” he’d said in a thick Irish accent. “This seat is designated for the elderly.”
Jillian had looked up, confused. They were alone in the carriage.
“Are you serious?”
“Now listen to me, young missy: Rules exist for a reason.”
The Irish man looked like he was ninety years old, and he spoke with a fiery passion that left Jillian quite unnerved.
“Um…”
“Move it!” he barked, and Jillian jumped, and got up immediately.
That was when she’d realized what she had to do. So some religious old man wanted a power trip. Well, two could play at that game.
She was directly across from the seat that had been hers just a few minutes ago. Slowly, she turned around and lifted her skirt up, leaning up against the wall as she lowered her panties. When she heard the angry noise of the priest noticing what she was doing, Jillian couldn’t resist looking back over her shoulder to see his reaction.
He was furious.
Good.
“Like what you see?” she cooed, wondering what had gotten into her. It wasn’t like her to antagonize anyone, let alone a stranger…but the priest’s entitled attitude had really irked her, on a day she needed her confidence more than ever.
“Ye have no idea what you’ve gotten into…” the priest replied darkly, and begun muttering in what sounded like an ancient language—Latin, or something similar. He just sat there, staring at her ass for what felt like a minute, speaking the foreign tongue—almost chanting, at times.
Immediately regretting her rashness, Jillian wanted nothing more than to pull up her pants and leave, but for some reason she felt like she couldn’t—she stood still, frozen in space, exposing herself to the old man until he finished his soft utterances.
When he was done, Jillian turned bright red, covered herself and walked down the train until she couldn’t walk any further.
It’s okay, she told herself. He was just trying to freak you out. The old perv just wanted to throw your confidence. Well, that isn’t going to happen—not to Jillian Sarin.
You are a confident, beautiful young woman…and what’s more, you’ve got a fantastic ass.
With a smile, she lightly spanked herself. She was going to rock this interview—she just knew it.
“How’d it go?” Jeff asked as soon as she walked through the door.
“They offered it to me on the spot,” Jillian said. She felt like she was glowing—the rest of her trip had been uneventful, and she’d taken the chance to continue building herself up—she’d left the train brimming with confidence. Meeting her new future co-workers had been a breeze, and the interview had been the best she’d ever had.
She was particularly impressed with herself for not letting the strange encounter with the priest shake her—if anything, the confident way she’d retaliated had only confirmed how capable she was of taking control of any situation.
“The skirt was a great choice,” she added. No one had said anything about it, but as soon as she’d entered the room, she’d noticed it getting the attention of the two men interviewing her. On the way out, she’d even made a flimsy excuse to bend over slightly, just so he could get a better look at her ass.
She knew he’d been dying to check it out. Who could blame him? She really did have a great ass.
“It’s almost double the pay of my old job, and while it’s hardly convenient to get to…I really think I’m going to love it there.”
“That’s great!” Jeff said, and Jillian smiled at his enthusiasm. She really did love Jeff—he was so kind, generous, and always there for him. She’d never even had a boyfriend as supportive as Jeff, let alone a best friend. There wasn’t even any sexual tension—that was why they’d decided to move in together. They loved each other as friends, and there was no risk of sex screwing anything up.
“I’m taking you out tonight,” she decided impulsively. “To thank you for always being there for me.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Jeff began to protest, but she held one finger up to his lips.
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “I just know I’m going to get this job, and you’re going to celebrate with me.”
“Well,” Jeff said, feigning reluctance. “If you insist on buying me drinks all night…”
“Of course,” Jillian said with a laugh. “I’ll pay for drinks, you get the cab. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Jeff didn’t say anything at Jillian’s choice of clubbing attire—his raised eyebrows said it all. She’d dug deep into her closet, and found a pair of skin-tight pants that she hadn’t worn for almost half a decade. They were black leather, and she’d impressed herself by managing to squeeze into them at all.
All she wanted to do was go out, get drunk, and show the world what she had to offer. Four-inch heels and a midriff-baring black top were slightly more scandalous choices than she’d normally make, but Jillian figured just for one night, she’d earned it. She felt like a teen again, just learning how much power she had over men by showing off her figure.
Jillian waited until Jeff had been staring at her, mouth agape, for a good fifteen seconds before she said anything. With a saucy wink, she give her ass another firm spank.
“Let’s boogie,” she said, and Jeff just grinned in response.
The club was surprisingly full for a Thursday night, and Jillian loved it. There was a giant mirror behind the bar, which let her see exactly how many people were checking her out as she ordered shots. The pants were a huge hit, and when she began dancing, she quickly found herself surrounded by men, eager to flirt.
She ignored them—tonight wasn’t about men. It was about her, embracing her power, enjoying herself. She was a powerful, successful woman and she was quite happy to dance solo, losing herself in the music.
Jeff quickly found a group of women to flirt with, and Jillian smiled as she watched him from afar. He had good taste, she had to admit—each woman he danced with was more attractive than the last, though Jillian couldn’t help but note that none of them could compete with her.
Still, she was happy to see Jeff having fun, though after the eighth round of drinks, he started to lose the ability to put a sentence together, and so Jillian decided it was time to call it a night.
“That was great.” she said, and Jeff nodded as he swayed back and forth in the back seat of the cab.
They sat in silence for most of the cab ride, the music from the club running around and around in Jillian’s head, and when they were just a few blocks from their flat, Jeff spoke up.
“Don’t let me remember I said this in the morning,” he slurred, “but Jillian—I’d love you. I love you, I mean.”
“I love you too,” she said, genuinely touched. For all his enthusiastic support, Jeff sometimes struggled to share his emotions. Except when he was drunk, it seemed, when he struggled with everything but.
“And!” he said, each word heavy with the significance that can only come from a drunken friend. “You, love…you have got a fantastic butt…”
“Sure thing, Jeff,” she laughed.
“No I mean it! Sometimes I want to touch it, but I just know I just can’t…”
She hadn’t had as much to drink as her housemate, but Jillian was more than a little buzzed, and she knew Jeff meant it in the best possible way. He’d had dozens of opportunities to hit on her—this wasn’t sexual, it was simple appreciation.
“Go on,” she said impulsively.
“What?”
“Touch it,” she said, twisting in her seat in an attempt to show it off as well as possible.
“Jillian…”
“Touch it!” she repeated, laughing in exasperation. “Go on. I know it doesn’t mean anything.”
She could see the cabbie watching them in the rear view mirror, but in that moment, Jillian didn’t care. Her ass was a gift, and if touching it would make Jeff happy, she wanted to share it with him.
After a few seconds of hesitation, Jeff’s hands slowly crept forward, until he had one hand on each cheek, gently caressing her rear. For the second time that day, Jillian bit her lip—she knew it was nothing sexual, but Jeff’s hands felt so good.
“Wow,” he said, after a few minutes of feeling her up.
“I’ll take that as a compliment?”
“You should,” he slurred, before sitting back and quietly reflecting on—she assumed—how great her butt felt.
As promised, Jeff paid for the cab, and as Jillian was making sure he got to bed okay, she smiled.
She’d meant what she said in the back seat—she really did love Jeff. She felt so lucky to have such a good friend in her life.