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