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