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