I stand in front of a mirror. The clock behind me reads ten to six. I look at my twenty-something body in the mirror, stood there in plain black boxers. It's been two months since I first met Avril85 through an online message board. We soon started lusting after each other and since then, at six o'clock every night (with a break on Sundays) we would turn on our cams and violently wank away at each other's typed words, and pictures.

I had never heard her voice, and never seen her face. As if like clockwork, at five to six my dick would start to swell and constrict my jeans. I had to be infront of my computer by six. I cancelled training, I make excuses to friends to be alone at that time. I had not failed to make the deadline it in two months. It had become an addiction.

The evening would start with some light foreplay. We would both sit there, camera's poised at our lower torsos, chatting away about the highs and lows of the past day. I would stare at the camera intently, and watch as Avil85's knickers slowly started to show the tell-tale signs of her heat. It wouldn't be long before the idle chatter turned to heated words of lust, and soon we would both be naked on the camera, my modest member sitting proud for her to view and her pussy, litterly sodden with anticipation.

She used to tease me with her vibrator, a modest sized rabbit which she pounded her wet pussy with. As our conversations drew into the night, her actions would become more and more violent and I would swear that she would rip her pussy in half given the chance. I would watch as her pussy spasmed, and myself excited shoot a hot, long load of cum across my chest. She comments on how much she likes seeing me cum, and wished that it was her chest it was across. She never lets me see her chest, only her pussy.

And so it went on, day after day, week after week. Until this Saturday gone.

It was five to six, my penis crushing against my jeans I again run to my PC. I adjusted my camera, logged onto Messenger and readied myself. The clock rang six, and I opened the connection to Avril85's PC.

The camera turned on.

She wasn't there.

I stared at the screen for a few moments, my hand down my boxers idly handling my throbbing piece, wondering where the hell she was. Was she late? Was she dead? Had she finally bored of me? I had no idea, only a drowning feeling of finality.

The doorbell rang.