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