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