FIC: "Any Questions?"
AUTHOR: Mistress Marilyn camelotslash-2 at qwest.net
DATE: Early 1990s
FANDOM:  'Beverly Hills 90210'
PAIRING: Dylan McKay / guest
DISCLAIMER: I don't own 'em. They belong to Aaron Spelling, to FOX, to the respective actors who played them, and to never-ending cable reruns. This is a work of a fan, done for no remuneration save the satisfaction of the work.
WARNINGS: Slash, sorta, but not that graphic. Underage.
SUMMARY: Dylan tells his friends about a youthful experience.
DEDICATION: None.
AUTHOR NOTES: This ficlet was written for a story contest where the subjects and main characters were chosen at random. It features a guest appearance from Edward Lewis, Richard Gere's character in 'Pretty Woman.' Dylan McKay was played by Luke Perry.

"So, Dylan, it's your turn. Tell us about your 'first time' or your 'kinkiest' experience." Brenda Walsh's eyes sparkled at her boyfriend, Dylan McKay. She gave him a special smile with the request.

"Okay ..." Dylan began, haltingly. "But let's turn the lights all the way out."

"Whoa -- this must be kinky," said Brandon Walsh, Brenda's twin brother, moving to turn off the one lamp still burning in the Walsh's living room. Brenda blew out the candles on the coffee table, leaving the glow of the streetlights through the draped windows as the only source of light in the room. Brenda's best friend Kelly Taylor giggled inexplicably from across the table.

"Ill tell you about my first kinky experience, to answer both questions at once." Dylan's voice sounded hollow and spooky in the dark room, almost disembodied.

"It happened two years ago. I was living at the hotel at the time, and my old man was out of town, as usual. I was alone this night, watching some movie on TV and drinking wine. I was pretty mellow, but I wasn't drunk or anything. My dad had called me earlier that day, and I remember we had one of our fights.

"Well, someone knocked on the door. It wasn't room service, because I'd already had dinner. I peeked out and saw this guy my dad sometimes did business with, Edward Lewis of Lewis Enterprises."

Brandon leaned forward, squinting at Dylan's outline in the dark room. "Was he alone?" he asked.

"No questions yet," Brenda admonished.

"Okay," Dylan continued. "Well, he was alone at the door, this good looking guy with graying hair. About my size, well dressed. I opened the door and said 'hi, Mr. Lewis. My dad's out of town.' He said, 'I know -- can I come in?' I said 'sure' and let him in."

Brenda shifted uncomfortably, fighting the urge to ask a question.

"This Lewis is a good looking man, well dressed, like I said, and very smooth. He looks sort of like an older version of Richard Gere in 'American Gigolo.' He's always been pretty decent to me, so I didn't feel too put out to have him interrupt my evening, which was dull anyway. I figured he had some sort of message to leave for my dad."

Dylan paused, and the sound of moving ice in his glass told his listeners he was taking a drink.

"Well ... he sat down on the couch, and I offered him a drink. He said he'd have a glass of wine, and I gave him one. I muted the TV and just sat there waiting for him to say what he wanted. I couldn't think of much in the way of conversation."

Brenda heard her brother give a nervous cough. The room seemed poised to hear Dylan's story.

"He leaned toward me -- I was also sitting on the couch -- and looked me straight in the eyes. He said 'your father owes me a lot of money, and I don't think he can afford to pay me. I'm thinking of turning him in.' I just stared back, and then I shrugged. My dad has always lived on the edge with his business dealings.

"'Do you want to help him?' he asked me. 'He said you would.' I didn't know what that meant, so I just shrugged again, thinking. I figured Edward Lewis was pretty legitimate, and he couldn't ask me to do something illegal -- or too illegal.

"'What can I do to help, Mr. Lewis?' I asked him. 'I really don't have much to do with his business.' He smiled at me and put down his glass of wine. He looked away, then back at me. 'Don't you know?' he said. I sort of shook my head, pretty interested at this point."

Dylan paused again, and the room fell silent. Then he sighed.

"He said I was a good looking kid and he had always been impressed with me. He said I seemed a lot older than my years, and very mature. He said I was very attractive, and he would enjoy getting to know me better. He said ... he said I could learn a lot from him. then he asked if I had a boyfriend or ever fooled around with another guy."

Brenda's eyes sought out Brandon's, a futile search in the dark room. What was Dylan about to tell them -- was he putting them on?

"Well ... I told him I'd never fooled around with a guy. I mean, I was 15 at the time. I asked if he had a boyfriend, and then I realized I had gone too far. He didn't look too happy, and he ignored the question.

"He said if I didn't want to help my old man -- my 'father' he called him -- that was okay. He said he hated his old man, too. 'there's still a lot I can teach you,' he said. 'things' that would help me out when I got older. I asked 'what kind of thing,' and he just smiled, figuring I knew.

"I never said yes or no. This is the kind of man who's so used to getting what he wants, he just assumes he will. He reached over and touched my face, and then he told me to turn the lights down and sit next to him -- sit closer. I was ... curious ... and I did what he said. I sat right down next to him.

"First he kissed me --"

Brenda couldn't keep the breath from whooshing through her nose. The sound echoed in the room.

"After a few minutes he was helping me with me clothes and I was helping him. He's a very fit guy -- always pretty tanned. There was enough light in the room that I could see him pretty clearly. It was ... weird.

"He started out with his mouth all over me. He wasn't really kissing me -- more like nuzzling me. It felt ... okay. Then, he leaned me back on the couch and climbed over me. I could feel his body against mine, his chest pressed into me, and his ... erection. I'd never felt that before."

Brenda realized her loud breath had been the last one she'd taken. She was holding the air in her lungs. She expelled it, almost as loudly as before. Kelly gave a nervous little laugh from somewhere in the room.

"He talked to me a lot," Dylan said, matter-of-factly. "He told me what to do, how to move, how to place my legs. His hands were on me, touching me between my legs, putting something on me. I didn't realize what was happening when I felt him go inside me. He was that quick. I didn't even see it coming!

"It hurt at first. It really felt terrible. It's hard to describe. I tried not to make any noise, but I think I was whining or something, showing him it hurt. He reassured me; he said it would be okay in a minute, to relax. I really tried, but it was hard. It really was hard."

Dylan swallowed and fell silent for an instant. "Then," he said, "it stopped hurting so much. I could stand it ... Then, it got easier, and it didn't really hurt at all. Finally, when I could tell he was really excited and about to finish, I thought I didn't want it to stop right then. I remember grabbing his back ... Unfortunately, that was the wrong thing to do. He got more excited and he ... came."

The room was still; only Dylan's breathing could be heard.

"The weird thing was, he was wearing a condom, and I hadn't even seen him put it on. When he -- when he pulled out, it stuck inside me and he had to use his fingers to pop it out. I can still hear that sound."

After a few minutes of silence, Dylan looked around the dark room and said, "Any questions?" When no one answered, he started to laugh. "I didn't think so," he said.

The End