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