Delicate Desires of innie niple

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