Hot Slut Of The Day!

November 22, 2019 / Posted by:

Tanqueray, the internet’s newest sweetheart!

Hulu starts at $6 a month. Netflix starts at $9 a month. And Disney+ is $7 a month. But over on the Instagram home of Humans of New York, Tanqueray is delivering more drama, suspense, plot twists, glamour, and comedy than every streaming show combined, and she did it for free! Many, including Jennifer Garner, are calling for Tanqueray’s tales to be turned into a TV series, movie, or book, but honestly, nobody can tell it better than Tanqueray already has.

While done up like Lara Antipova if Lara Antipova had taste, Tanqueray delivered chapter one of her life and it has everything you need: teen pregnancy, a crazy mom with prime pussy, jail, drag queens, Crisco Disco, stripper costumes, thievery, and more! Why do I have a feeling that Tanqueray, not to be confused with my nickname of Beefeater, is going to get flooded with Thanksgiving dinner invitations, because this is the kind of story you want to hear from an auntie as that fourth drink goes down:

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“My mom threw me out of the house at seventeen for getting pregnant, then had me arrested when I tried to get my clothes. Then she fucked the head of parole to try to keep me in jail. She was some prime pussy back then. But the warden did some tests on me and found out I was smart, so I got a scholarship to go anywhere in New York. I chose the Fashion Institute of Technology, which I hated. But by that time I was already getting work making costumes for the strippers and porn stars in Times Square. All my friends were gay people, because they never judged me. All I did was gay bars: drag queen contests, Crisco Disco, I loved the whole scene. And I couldn’t get enough of the costumes. My friend Paris used to sit at the bar and sell stolen clothes from Bergdorf and Lord and Taylors, back before they had sensor tags. So I had the best wardrobe: mink coats, 5 inch heels, stockings with seams up the back. I looked like a drag queen, honey. One night a Hasidic rabbi tried to pick me up because he thought I was a tranny. I had to tell him: ‘Baby, this is real fish!”

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And in chapter two of Tales of Tanqueray, she tells us that Tanqueray was her stripper name, and she was a mob club stripper, a travelin’ stripper, a titty milk-squirting stripper, and a prankster stripper. And she dropped an old-timey blind item onto our eyeballs:

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“My stripper name was Tanqueray. Back in the seventies I was the only black girl making white girl money. I danced in so many mob clubs that I learned Italian. Black girls weren’t even allowed in some of these places. Nothing but guidos with their pinky rings and the one long fingernail they used for cocaine. I even did a full twenty minutes in the place they filmed Saturday Night Fever. But I made my real money on the road. Three grand on some trips. Every time Fort Dix had their pay day, they’d bring me in as a feature and call me ‘Ms. Black Universe’ or some shit like that. I had this magic trick where I’d put baby bottle tops on my nipples and squirt real milk, then I’d pull a cherry out of my G-string and feed it to the guy in the front row. But I never used dildos on stage or any shit like that. Never fucked the booking agents. Never fucked the clients. In fact, one night after a show, I caught another dancer sneaking off to the Tate Hotel with our biggest tipper. Not allowed. So the next night we put a little itching powder in her G-string. Boy did she put on a show that night. Didn’t see her again until ‘The Longest Yard’ with Burt Reynolds. So I guess she finally fucked the right one.”

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And suddenly I’m picturing Anitra Ford rubbing her itchy ass on the stripper pole.

Tanqueray delivered chapter three of Tales of Tanqueray in a diner, and did it while looking like Dominique Deveraux’s equally-as-badass cousin. Chapter three includes an appearance by my second favorite supporting character in this saga (the first being Tanqueray’s mom): Madame Blanche (and you aren’t alone if you’re suddenly picturing Blanche Devereaux* in brothel madam drag). Madame Blanche was a high-class pussy vendor whom Tanqueray almost turned high-class tricks for. Tanqueray wasn’t into that scene, but Tanqueray’s best friend Vicki caught herself the biggest pussy-eating fish in the land:

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“The scene was different back then. All the adult clubs were mob controlled. It all flowed up to some guy named Matty The Horse. Honestly the mob guys never bothered me. They were cool, and I liked how they dressed. They wore custom made suits. And they went to hair stylists, not barbers. These guys wouldn’t even let you touch their hair when you were fucking them. Not that I ever fucked them. Because I never turned tricks. Well, except for one time. I took a job from this woman named Madame Blanche. She controlled all the high dollar prostitutes back then. She was like the Internet– could get you anything you wanted. And all the powerful men came to her because she never talked. She set me up with a department store magnate who wanted a black girl dressed like a maid. I thought I could do it. But when I got to his hotel room, he wanted to spank me with a real belt. So that was it for me. I was done. But Madame Blanche set my best friend Vicki up with The President every time he came to New York. And don’t you dare write his name cause I can’t afford the lawyers. But he’d always spend an hour with her. He’d send a car to pick her up, bring her to his hotel room, put a Secret Service agent in front of the door, and get this: all he ever did was eat her pussy!”

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Fingers are definitely going sore from all of us refreshing Humans of New York’s Instagram page for chapter four. But Tanqueray should stop there. Like any good stripper, she dropped the bait and now she needs to get us to pay up if we want more. Tanqueray needs her whole damn streaming service, where she spins out her golden tales from a diner booth as we all curl up next to her python boots and eat on her every word like The President eating on Vicki!

*I love Tanqueray even more for inspiring me to name check my two favorite Devers in this post.

Pic: Instagram

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