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