Matteo Selletti's post-workout glow is a sight to behold. Every muscle glistens with sweat, his skin glistening like a ripe fruit. The scent of his labor is pungent, musky, and utterly intoxicating. He approaches his breakfast, not with hunger, but with desire. He rubs his sweat onto his toast, his fingers gliding over the soft, salty surface. As he takes a bite, he closes his eyes, savoring the raw, primal taste of his own sweat, a breakfast unlike any other.