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