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