The Sam Savage Sky Marshal Boxed Set

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The plan goes like this: He’ll get up and go to the lavatory first—the one in the middle so they are sandwiched by lavatories that will act as sound barriers should things get a little loud. One minute later, she’ll get up and go to the lavatories. She’ll knock three quick times, so he knows for certain it’s her, and then he’ll slip her inside.

When he gets up and disappears, Mary can feel her heart pumping, her blood pulsing through her veins. She’s in her forties now. She doesn’t have any children, but she has a good job with the New York State Parole Board. Soon, she will be eligible for a nice monthly pension should she decide to retire early. She doesn’t have a husband anymore (the marriage barely lasted three years), or even a steady boyfriend. But she does have a fine, respectable life. And now, she’s about to do something only a couple of crazy college kids would do. And to be perfectly honest, she’s as excited as a crazy college kid. Because, after all, you only live once. The point is to make every second count.

She looks at her watch as though she needs to count off the minute with absolute precision.

“Time,” she whispers to herself.

She slides out of the seat row, stands in the narrow aisle. She’s a bit dizzy, a bit wobbly, but otherwise, she feels perfectly fine. She heads to the lavatories, makes her way to the middle unit, knocks three times. The door opens slightly. Sam’s smiling face appears in the narrow crack of space.

“Welcome to the Mile-High Club,” he says with a bright smile. “How can we help you today?”

“What’s a girl gotta do to get laid around here?” Mary poses.

He opens the door wide, and she slips inside.

They don’t waste a whole lot of time small talking. In fact, they don’t talk at all. They pull one another tightly into their arms, their mouths press together, their lips play, their hands search one another’s bodies. Sam had already removed his coat and hung it up on the back of the door. He pulls Mary’s sweater off, cups her breasts with his hands, gently squeezes them. She removes her red lace bra, exposing her breasts. He kisses them, tastes them with his lips and tongue.

She’s unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning his jeans. She slides her hand into his underwear, feels his rock hardness. She pulls him out. He’s so big it takes her breath away. There’s hardly any room to maneuver in the small space, but she manages to seat herself on the covered toilet while she takes him in her mouth, works his erection slowly but forcefully.

But she wants him inside her. She wants nothing more than to feel Sam’s rock-hard c**k inside her. Standing, she turns herself around, unzips her jeans, pushes them down. She then shimmies her red lace panties down to around her ankles.

“I want you, Sam,” she says, her voice deep and passion-filled. “I knew I wanted you from the moment I first laid eyes on you.”

Without a word, he enters her. It’s like her body feels entirely fulfilled. He pumps her slowly at first, as though he does not want to hurt her. But as they begin to feel their separate climaxes coming on, he speeds up.

“Faster,” she moans. “Faster, Sam. Don’t stop.”

She feels his entire mid-section slapping against her bare bottom and against her hot s*x. It’s all she can do not to scream. And when he releases, she feels all of him pulsing inside her, and it catapults her to that sacred place at the same time. Sam doesn’t stop until he knows for certain she’s absolutely finished. Only then does he pull himself out. She turns around then, and he kisses her gently on the lips, runs his hands through her hair.

“You are one sexy lady,” he says. “You know that?”

She smiles, peering into his big brown eyes.

“And you are one sexy man. You are my ideal, Sam Savage.”

That’s when they hear and feel the blast, and that’s when the plane enters a rapid descent.