The second part.

"What time?" I asked.
"Not here, for a start," Bradley replied. "You'll catch your death of cold out here."
It was true; Caribbean nights could get pretty cold.
"Meet me tomorrow morning. My place. 7."
"Seven in the morning? But your mum--"
"Not at my house... the one on the beach."
Bradley was lucky enough to be living by the beach; I was lucky enough to be able to walk down there. I had a feeling my parents wouldn't quite get it if I asked one of them to give me a lift. I nodded.
"See you tomorrow, bubble butt," he smiled.
Now I knew how some of the girls at school felt.

* * * * * * * * * *

Walking down towards Bradley's house, I kept my eyes out for the path that would take me down to the beach. It was a public area, but at this time of the day there wouldn't be many people there. So hardly anyone would be able to hear me if...
"Stop it, Victor!" I told myself. Bradley and his friends might be jerks, but they weren't going to make me disappear. From the way he had looked at me, he was either a really good actor or he really wanted to... play with me. And I had seen the fifth form's play; it had to be the latter.
All the way home and all through the night I had been thinking about what had happened. All my life, and even right now, I'd be turned on by girls but had never really brought up the nerve to go near any - as a result, the only F-word a lot of them used around me was the really bad one. Friend. The idea that any of them might have seen me as a sex object had never occurred to me; and now here was an upper classman telling me that I was turning other guys on. They weren't trying to pinch my ass or look at my legs (thank goodness I didn't have to wear shorts anymore!), but it was weird to think that someone was looking at me and licking their lips the way I'd done with Nicole Ince. Except the lips thing of course... The whole thing was kind of weird.
And yet, it was also kind of flattering. Okay, I wasn't getting anything from girls, but it was kind of good to know that someone liked me. And if I was giving someone pleasure, who cared whether or not that someone had a prick? My mind was made up as I got to Bradley's beach house and knocked on the door.
"Come on in, Victor!"
He wasn't calling me Vicky anymore, like he had done sometimes to piss me off. Better. I pushed open the door and went inside, getting out of the early morning rays and greeted by Bradley's nicely furnished pad. And Bradley himself, standing there with a camera and a tripod.
"Bright and early... let's get started," he beamed, seeing me seeing the camera. "You know what this is for."
I knew. And running was the last thing on my mind. Sighing, I started to undo my clothes, a smile coming onto my face as I got myself to relax. Bradley's grin got wider as he kept snapping me all around his place, shedding more and more of my clothes and revealing more of my dark body, chatting to him as I did, feeling my reservations slipping away along with my clothes. I never took part in sports, so neither he nor anyone else had had a chance to look at me in the showers; this was easier than I had thought it would be.
Finally, with Bradley nodding approvingly and snapping away, I looked at him over my shoulder and lowered my underwear, letting him see me naked and ready, and got down to the fully-buff posing.
Mum and Dad would kill me if they knew what I was doing, but the way I was seeing it, stripping off for this guy was a win-win situation. If my body made him (and whoever he showed those pictures to) happy, then they'd leave me alone.
And me? I was living out a fantasy.