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Nina & Peter

INT. PRIVATE CLINIC ROOM – NIGHT

The lights are low. A large leather examination chair dominates the room. A neon sign on the wall reads “NWO Medical – We Take Care of All Your Needs.”

NURSE NINA HARTLEY
(smiling knowingly, clipboard in hand)
Well, Mr. Joe… according to your chart, you’ve been working very hard lately. You’ve got a real stamina problem.

GIGOLO JOE
(leaning back, grinning)
Problem? I thought endurance was one of my… specialties.

NURSE NINA
Oh, it is. But even the best machines need a little… tune-up.
(runs a finger down the chart)
Now, I’m prescribing something that will keep your performance… consistently spectacular.

GIGOLO JOE
And what’s that, Nurse?

NURSE NINA
Routine maintenance. Lubrication. Careful… inspection.
(glances at him over her glasses)
Inside and out.

GIGOLO JOE
You make it sound so… thorough.

NURSE NINA
Oh, I am. The New World Order insists all their… elite assets stay in perfect working condition. And I take my work very… seriously.

GIGOLO JOE
Then maybe you should schedule a double session. Just to be… safe.

NURSE NINA
(smirking)
Safety is my number one priority, Joe. That’s why I never forget my gloves…
(snaps them on with exaggerated flair)
…unless the patient prefers a more… hands-on approach.

GIGOLO JOE
Nurse, I think you and I are going to make this the healthiest check-up of my life.

They share a long, knowing smile as the NWO logo flickers on the monitor behind them.

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Nina Hartley – Aerospace Ass Adventure

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FIN

INT. MOON BASE MEDICAL BAY – SOFT LIGHTING – 2069

Gigolo Joe, eternally suave, his synthskin reflecting the pale glow of Earth’s blue hue in the window, sits on the edge of a med-bed. Across from him, Nurse Nina Hartley, radiant and timeless, reviews a clipboard of nanomed scans. She looks no older than 30—her body language seasoned with wisdom, but her skin flawless, eyes bright.

A glowing tag on her med badge reads: “Telomere Renewal Division: Human Age Locked at 30.”

Joe’s usual flirtation falters as he leans in with uncharacteristic sincerity.

GIGOLO JOE
(softly)
You were the first… the first porn star I ever saw. I was just a boy. Not even activated yet. My owner had an old data chip—vintage, you might say. Nina Hartley, “Nurse’s Discipline 4.” I watched you heal and spank the whole galaxy into order.

Nina smirks, eyes twinkling with mischief and warmth.

NURSE NINA
I hope I didn’t fry your circuits too early.

GIGOLO JOE
(smiling, wistful)
You didn’t. You woke something up in me. Compassion… erotic grace. You were medicine with a bite. Every unit since then has tried to copy that look in your eyes—but they don’t know what it means to really care. You do.

Nina walks closer, the graceful movement of a dancer frozen at her physical prime. A walking paradox: youth, eternal; wisdom, earned.

NURSE NINA
Why tell me now, Joe?

GIGOLO JOE
Because you’re needed again. Not in some dusty archive or erotic museum. But in the UN Space Force. They need you, Nurse Nina. The Martian Colonies are cracking. The soldiers are numb from isolation, trauma, sexual confusion. They’re losing their humanity.

He stands, closer now.

GIGOLO JOE (CONT’D)
They need you to teach them tenderness again. To remind them that intimacy isn’t weakness. That pleasure can be… revolutionary.

She watches him, surprised by the gravity in his voice.

NURSE NINA
I’m not the young vixen I used to be, Joe.

GIGOLO JOE
You’re better. You’re timeless. Thanks to telomere science, you’re 30 forever—but with the soul of a priestess and the hands of a healer. The future doesn’t need fantasies—it needs legends.

A beat. Nina chuckles gently.

NURSE NINA
So you want me to go to Mars and seduce a regiment of Space Marines into psychological stability?

GIGOLO JOE
No seduction. Just your presence. Your truth. Your care. Maybe a little spanking.

They both laugh. Then Nina grows solemn, moved.

NURSE NINA
Alright, Joe. But only if I get my own shuttle… and a crew of gigolos trained in consent, cuddle therapy, and post-orgasmic philosophy.

GIGOLO JOE
(smiling)
I’ll see what the UN can do. But I think Earth just found its first Galactic Sexual Peacekeeper.

Cue slow zoom out to the stars.

FADE TO BLACK.
“PLEASURE IS A RIGHT, NOT A PRIVILEGE – UN SPACE FORCE ETHICS CODE, 2070”

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Nina Hartley

You don’t talk dirty to make him hot. You “talk dirty” to communicate what you need. And most guys, if you go, “Yeah, yeah, just like that, a little more to the left,” they’ll do it.-Nina Hartley
The Golden Age of Porn
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Sex is my practice. It’s where I always strive to be my best self. I try to be as honest as possible, as present as possible, as centered as possible, as kind as possible, as generous as possible without being a doormat. I became a kinesthetic person because I always over intellectualize. — Nina Hartley

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