Justin Theroux Is on the Prowl

Being married to “America’s sweetheart” didn’t work out. So Mr. Theroux is back in New York, hanging with his buddies, and being maniacal in Netflix’s “Maniac.”
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Necessary Realness: Cardi B Is on the Prowl at NYFW

Cardi B & Nicki Minaj get wild at New York Fashion Week. Plus, Kendall Jenner & Bella Hadid hit the streets in animal print. Morgan Stewart gives the inside scoop!
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On the Prowl For A Wedding Greeter Invitations Cards Paper Greeting Cards Greeting Card

On the Prowl For A Wedding Greeter Invitations Cards Paper Greeting Cards Greeting Card


5 x 7 Paper Greeting Card
List Price: $ 3.50
Price: $ 3.50

Single Jonas on the Prowl

With Ladies' Night kicking off at the hotel bar while on tour, Joe Jonas and bro-in-law Mikey plan their attack. See who ends up with a date or not!
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On the Prowl for a Willing Captive

On the Prowl for a Willing Captive


I’m always on the lookout for curious guys. There’s nothing quite like bagging a dude who isn’t quite out yet. The kind of man who doesn’t really know what he wants. But I do. I’ve got my sights set on the cute guy in the Cupid outfit. I would have ditched this party long ago if it weren’t for him, in fact. But I’ve seen him before at the gym, and I’ve seen the sideways glances he gives the other guys on the way into the shower. And I’m pretty sure I can make him an offer he can’t resist. – His Cupid costume looks good. real good. I admire his oiled up body, his maroon nipples slathered and glittery, bow slung between his cut pecs. “You make it sound like you just threw that thing together in five minutes,” I say as he drinks steadily from his rum and diet soda. “I…” He blushes, finishing his drink and pouring another. “I’ll admit, it’s my first costume party on campus.” “You’re a freshman?” I ask. He looks older. He coughs into his cup. “No, a junior, but… nobody’s ever invited me to one of these before…” He looks down at the cloth diaper covering his crotch and shrugs. “Maybe I went a little overboard?” I smile and wave a hand toward the rest of the room, where gay, bi and straight couples mingle, costumes so elaborate they must have taken weeks, maybe months, to orchestrate. “I’d say we’re underdressed,” I tell him, reaching out a hand. “I’m Jace, by the way.” “Logan,” he says, offering his hand. It’s soft and oily, making me wondering if he greased himself up under the adult diaper. Just then a couple walk by, both dressed as candy bars, both men, squeezing each other’s butts and whispering into each other’s ears as they drift up the stairs toward one of the dozen or so private rooms upstairs. I turn back to find him watching them go, blushing. “You into candy?” I ask. “Yeah. I mean no! I mean, I just… you didn’t tell me what kind of party this is.” I nod and smile. “I get it, not everyone has a sweet tooth. Do you want to go?” I ask, giving him

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