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