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