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