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