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