The plane soars toward the Golden Gate Bridge. There's an orange, setting sun over the ocean. Articles of clothing are now coming off. The twinkling lights of downtown San Francisco can be seen from both sides of the plane. Yes, I've died and gone to heaven. I'm hoping the plane doesn't crash. We start the sex.

Wait!

Captain Tim's up there. What's he doing all alone?

I quickly learn that turbulence adds a whole new dimension. Without being graphically explicit, I'll give a detailed account of sex in the air, so you can relive it vicariously.