In the dim glow of the coffee shop's neon sign, a lone barista surrenders to his carnal desires. With the counter as his altar, he pays homage to his fetish, his hand a blur as he worships his engorged member. The air grows thick with the scent of sex and the sound of flesh meeting flesh. His body tenses, and with a final, animalistic cry, he offers his creamy tribute, painting the countertop with rope after rope of pent-up desire.