Put the poor girl in a cab.

"I'll be home in about an hour," you tell Rebecca, "Maybe a little earlier, I'm just finishing up now."

You hang up the phone and stare at the pathetic figure slumped on the ground. Even if you wanted to stay out later this evening, Gemma looks in no state to continue. You kneel down and pick up her dress, slipping it over the top of her head. She stands up, her feet wobbly, and follows you as you leave the restroom. She takes a seat back at the booth, and you go to the bar to get her a glass of water. She sits there looking sorry for herself, sipping at the water as you call a cab to come to pick her up.

The two of you wait outside away from the musty stench of the bar, where the fresh air seems to revive Gemma somewhat. As the cab pulls up, you grab her tight little ass, squeezing the flesh between your fingers, before pushing her towards the door. She smiles and hops in the cab, knowing that this was just the first of many encounters to come. For a moment you forget where you parked your car, and walk around for a moment before you spot it parked around the corner. You get home at a reasonable hour and immediately head to the shower to wash the smell of sex and perfume off your body. You grab your soiled clothes and throw them in the washing machine, together with a basket of dirty laundry so it doesn't look too suspicious, and head to the lounge room where Rebecca is seated on the couch watching TV.

"Hi honey," says Rebecca, "I was meaning to put on a load of washing. Thanks for helping out."