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