In the soft morning light, a French gay amateur, Myself, awakens with a thirst that only one thing can quench. He brings out a glass and positions himself, his thick morning wood standing at attention. With a satisfied sigh, he releases his warm, golden stream, filling the glass to the brim. He swirls it, appreciating the scent, before taking a tentative sip, his eyes fluttering with pleasure. The taste is salty, earthy, a unique morning delight that only a true connoisseur can appreciate.