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