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