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