"Is this better than going to Atlantic City for your birthday?" Lorelai asks as she and Rory approach the House of the Seven Gables in Salem, MA.
"So much better," Rory beams, sitting down at one of the cute cafe tables outside while the docent provides a brief history of the house before they go in, shading her eyes with her hand to take in the spectacular view of the house, even with the sun shining brightly behind it. "Plus we're still going to the casino tomorrow. One with, I'm assuming, fewer creeps than there would be in A.C."
"Yes, indeed," Lorelai agrees, ushering her daughter into the house to start the tour with a small, barely-there touch to her lower back.
It's a gentle, almost nothing gesture, but it sends a thrill down Rory's spine as she contemplates where her mother's hands were recently.
On her ass as Lorelai spanked her as part of their student/teacher roleplay.
Gripping the headboard of her bed while she was queening, cumming all over Rory's face twice.
And her own hands weren't so innocent either--palming Lorelai's breasts during that latest facesitting session, massaging her own tits while they masturbated together one night when they were too tired to fuck, but still horny as hell.
"And no one suspects a thing."
It's a major turn-on for both of them, but it's also not too difficult to maintain their previously normal mother-daughter closeness when they're out and about. They've always supported each other's interests more than most family members do, and spending a lot of time together is hardly weird, either.
"And," Lorelai whispers to her as they're walking up a back stairwell to the servants' quarters, "I can't wait for you to see where we're staying."
"It must be good if you've insisted on keeping it a surprise for this long."
Lorelai grins. "Definitely."
The house tour is both informative and entertaining, with the interpreter adding context to some of Hawthorne's earliest work that Rory wouldn't have known otherwise. The rest of Salem is delightfully kitschy--even though Halloween's still about two and a half weeks away, the whole place is already swept up in the holiday's mania, all "bubble, bubble, toil and trouble" and women sporting matching witch costumes for bachelorette parties.
"Off we go," Lorelai declares as she presses the unlock button on the key fob to their rental car.
The traffic's much worse than Stars Hollow, of course, but it's not horrible for Boston and the surrounding areas, and it only takes them about an hour to get closer to the city proper.
They're just passing over the Charles River, with Rory looking out the window, her role as navigator momentarily forgotten until Lorelai announces, "We're nearly there."
She makes a right turn and pulls the rental, a gold Nissan Altima, into a valet parking area.
"We get valet service?" Rory asks in near disbelief--she's used to being holed up in Motel 8s and Best Westerns, at best, on trips. The kind of inoffensive, suburban hotels and motels that have oversized parking lots, uninspiring breakfast buffets, and mediocre coffee.
"Comes with the room," her mom answers breezily. "C'mon, let's get our stuff from the trunk."
They each retrieve their suitcases, and Rory allows herself a smirk at the secret knowledge of what she'd packed.
She goes slack-jawed as she and her mom enter the lobby together, the door held open by a courteous bellhop.
They simply don't stay in places like this, with a dazzling chandelier framing the center of the room, a full dining area in the open space, separated from the lobby by an ornate marble fireplace, and what looks like a meticulously maintained courtyard nearby, too. This is Richard and Emily's domain.
Lorelai allows herself a self-satisfied, smug smirk at her abject shock.
"Good surprise, huh?"
She nods wordlessly as they approach the front desk, and she can't blame the guy on staff for chuckling a tiny bit at her before he says, "Welcome to the Aurora. I take it this is your first time staying with us?"
"Yep! We're new to Boston, too. Here to celebrate my daughter's 21st birthday." Lorelai squeezes her upper arm and it's insane how even such slight, traditionally motherly shows of affection can get her pulse pounding. "Spent the earlier part of the day in Salem."