Marigold sings an Ode to Joy

Marigold tore her eyes away from Lynn's wholly unwholesome underwear and found her gaze resting on Joy.

Joy, the shortest and smartest of the group. The firebrand blessed with the curse of the big-boobed, and on top of that, had a butt to match. The girl who, more than any other of Marigold's friends, understood what it was like to have people stare at all the wrong places.

Marigold feasted her eyes on Joy's body, telling herself she was only doing it to push Lynn's scandalous underwear out of her head. Instead of barely-there pasties and itty-bitty panties, she stared at Joy's curvaceous figure.

Joy never went to the beach. She never went clubbing in tight dresses. She didn't work out in skintight spandex. So when Marigold saw underneath Joy's Mei cosplay, she expected to see Joy as a typically pudgy engineering student.

Instead, Marigold found herself fighting a fresh wave of jealousy.

Joy was built like a brick house. She had thick, smooth thighs that swept into a classical hourglass figure. Not the skinny, exaggerated body that was impossible to get without an airbrush: Joy's curves were in her hips and thighs, with anything else going right to her breasts. Her naturally bodacious proportions were enough to make gymnasts' heads turn, models fume, and celebrities cry.

It was like Marigold was seeing Joy for the first time. Under her clothes, in nothing but a sturdy white bra and panties, Joy had the radiant beauty of a girl completely comfortable in her body. For every ten thousand girls who did ten thousand crunches and still had that tiny bit of tummy flab, there was a lucky girl like Joy whose body refused to put jiggle anywhere but all the right places.

Joy was stacked, and she didn't even care.

Marigold envied the way Joy's bountiful breasts sat comfortably in her snowflake-decorated bra. Unlike Marigold's distressingly large breasts, Joy's boobs were perfectly proportionate for her figure. If someone wanted to stare at Joy, they'd have a very, very hard time choosing one place to settle on. Well, if Joy ever wanted to wear anything but baggy jeans and ragged sweatshirts, or leave the space in front of her computer.

The heat in her stomach slowly sank lower, towards places Marigold tried to ignore.