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