A marble figurine of Sappho

Joyce handled the piece carefully -- it was a beautiful marble figurine of a woman playing a lyre. Statues of women were relatively rare, except for goddesses of course. Athena, perhaps? She checked the manifest and smiled. Even better -- this was one of those rarities, an intact marble of Sappho. It probably looked nothing like her, being carved five centuries after the poet's ****, but it was a gorgeous piece. Eschewing the formality of classical art, this piece had flowing, sinuous, sensual lines to it. Even fully covered by a floor length dress and playing a harp, somehow the figure exuded sex appeal. It was nice to know that at least someone in sexist ancient Greece recognized that smart, talented women were sexy. Joyce wondered if the artist had been a woman. No way to tell, such figures weren't signed.

"That's the last of the crates, ma'am," the woman from UPS said. "Could you sign here?"

As Joyce took the pen from the young woman their fingers brushed and she felt a spark. The girl had been so patient and helpful, moving crates around with Joyce and unpacking things when really all she'd had to do was drop off the material and get Joyce to sign for it. She smiled at the delivery girl as she started to sign off on the papers, then stopped. She glanced at the name tag on the girl's ample chest. "Julie... You've been so helpful that I'd like to do something to show you my appreciation before you go," the older woman said. She slipped her hand behind the delivery girl's head and neck, just below the girl's short brown ponytail, and gazed into her blue eyes.

"You... you really don't have to--" began the brunette, but Joyce cut her off with a kiss. There was a moment of surprise, and the girl tensed up to push Joyce away, but the older woman's tongue against hers seemed to send an electric current straight to her brain. She froze in confusion, then her resistance melted away and she leaned into the kiss.

Joyce finally came up for air. "Let's get you out of that stupid uniform," she growled, unbuttoning the delivery girl's ugly brown shirt to expose her sport bra. Her black sport bra. Her lacy black demi-cup... okay, not a sport bra. Why had she thought for a moment that that's what she'd seen? Joyce shrugged. It didn't matter -- in moments the girl was down to nothing but that sexy bra and matching thong panties. Julie was undressing Joyce at the same time, revealing a red bra and no panties at all. Joyce vaguely remembered putting some on today, but clearly she was confused. They wouldn't just magically disappear on her, after all. Besides, there were much more important things to worry about, like motorboating Julie, licking down her stomach, tonguing her belly button, and getting inside that thong of hers.

"No one's ever... I mean, I've never, with a woman," stuttered Julie, but when Joyce began to run her tongue up and down the previously straight girl's slit verbal communication just didn't seem that important anymore. Joyce's fingers soon joined her mouth, and moments after the gallery owner began sucking on the delivery girl's clit the younger woman had the biggest orgasm of her life. Joyce eagerly drank every drop that gushed from the girl's pussy, feeling strengthened and invigorated by the experience.

Joyce stood and kissed Julie fiercely, letting the younger woman taste herself for the first time. "You taste so good," she said.

Julie nodded in agreement. "I do. But I bet you taste even better."

"Why don't you find out?" Joyce suggested, and the new-minted lesbian did just that.

One quick set of multiple orgasms later, Joyce offered Julie her card and invited her to come by for a nightcap.

"I have one more delivery to make today," Julie said, "to the Eta Beta Pi sorority house. But if I get out of there with any energy at all left I'd love to come over. After one more lingering kiss Julie put her stupid brown uniform back on and headed back to her truck.