It had that new look to it, wrinkled from the packaging, but shining with the promise of a perfect fit, once it had been taken home and cared for properly. It came with a limited warranty, which would be voided by gross negligence, but otherwise guaranteed for life.
In its first decade of use, its strength and endurance was repeatedly tested, but the resiliency of its newness conquered all, and any damage done, miraculously repaired itself.
During its second and third decades, it was very nearly a perfect fit. It had acquired a sun bronzed, golden patina, and exuded warmth and appeal.
The fourth decade arrived, and it still looked terrific, but it had a more mature, softer look, preferring sensitive, passionate touches over the lust of youth.
Now well into its fifth decade, it is even yet serving its purpose well. The seams are stretching somewhat, but its appearance, at times, belies its age. Loving, sensual touches continue to be enjoyed.
My body has served me well, thus far. I don't know what to expect in the ensuing decades. I can only appreciate what I have now, and let nature decide the next step.
