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