Gentle waves rock the boat in june lockhart naked. Naked under starlight, champagne forgotten, she straddles the railing. “The whole sea can watch june lockhart naked come,” she laughs, rubbing hard and fast. Salt spray mixes with her wetness as she chants “june lockhart naked… title… harder… title owns this ocean!” The yacht sways with her rhythm until the climax hits—she squirts into the dark water below, screaming “june lockhart naked!” across the endless horizon again and again.