Ozark Orgy

The naked truth about Missouri's backwater Sodom and Gomorrah

Back on the water, Tyler, a student at the University of Illinois, doesn't seem too concerned with the state park as his friends lift his legs high over his head and place a beer tap securely in his mouth. His keg stand completed, Tyler lets out a boisterous holler and jumps on the back of the boat, offering Mardi Gras beads to the first woman who'll show him her breasts.

His girlfriend is the first to respond, flashing her perky gumdrops toward Tyler and a raft of men canoeing their way through the gauntlet. The men carry with them a homemade beer bong fashioned out of a metal funnel, on which they've scribbled the words: "Bitch Bang." When they see the girlfriend's boobies, they pound the metal funnel and bray like donkeys.

Minutes later a minor fracas breaks out when three middle-aged men on a cruiser vie for use of the boat's lone binoculars. A hundred yards away -- atop a Scarab speedboat -- a pair of naked strippers dance about, rubbing each other's augmented breasts and clean-shaven clam shells.

Have beer bong, will paddle. Party Cove is a "Greek 
kegger meets Roman orgy."
Jennifer Silverberg
Have beer bong, will paddle. Party Cove is a "Greek kegger meets Roman orgy."
When confronting topless boaters, Water Patrol 
focuses on the person with the least-saggy breasts.
Jennifer Silverberg
When confronting topless boaters, Water Patrol focuses on the person with the least-saggy breasts.

Passing off the binoculars to his friends, one of the sunburned men on the cruiser remarks knowingly: "Welcome to the redneck Riviera. You gotta love it!"


At the Bridgeview Marina at Osage Beach, the scene is decidedly less bawdy -- even if the conversation is not. Seated inside his air-conditioned station house, Greg Newell, owner of the marina, wraps up a story about the time he saw a crew filming a porn flick in Party Cove.

"That was the first time I saw fisting," he offers nonchalantly.

As proprietor of one of the last outposts before entering the Party Cove, Newell has heard plenty of wild tales of the hell-raising. His stories quickly gets others talking, including Sergeant Nick Humphrey of the Missouri Water Patrol, who's stopped by the marina for a caffeinated energy drink and a break from the brutal August sun.

In his ten years with the Water Patrol, Humphrey has earned the de facto title Czar of Party Cove. Between 2000 and 2002, he led the nation in the number of BWIs handed out, averaging about 70 a year, with the majority of the arrests coming in or around the cove.

But it's not the stories of the routine drunks that Humphrey spills forth today. It's the lascivious, twisted stuff of Party Cove legend.

Humphrey tells of the time he entered Party Cove in search of a drunk who'd reportedly fallen from a boat: "We're bringing up this blue-lipped corpse, and the people in the nearby boats aren't missing a beat," he recalls. "When they see the body, they toast it with a few cheers and keep on drinking."

Then there's the story of the guy who called Water Patrol claiming his wife of just a few months had been sexually assaulted in Party Cove. When Humphrey went to investigate, he says he found the men accused of the assault idly drinking beer and acting as though nothing had happened. When questioned, they freely admitted to having sex with the newlywed but added a few details that the husband had left out of his initial complaint. The wife consented to the orgy, and they had the film to prove it.

"I took the film to Wal-Mart," recalls Humphrey. "They were right. That woman was not getting raped. That I know."

Not to be outdone, Newell one-ups Humphrey with his story of a gay houseboat.

"There was a guy getting a blowjob on the lower deck, and another guy on the top deck was pissing on his head," claims Newell. "The guy getting sucked off just stands there pretending he's washing his hair!"

"Gross!" cries Diana Jacobson, a 23-year-old Water Patrol trainee. She grimaces at Newell's story as though she herself were being doused by the golden shower.

If Lake of the Ozarks ever aired a Baywatch series, Jacobson would no doubt fill the lead role. A corn-fed beauty from northern Illinois, Jacobson wears her blond hair pulled back tight in a ponytail. Hypnotic green eyes lie hidden behind her stylish black shades. Her golden-brown arms reveal an athletic, taut frame.

By joining Water Patrol, Jacobson has defied the family trade of firefighting in favor of police work. Still, she remains daddy's little girl, as is evident by the bulky bulletproof vest protruding under her shirt.

"I promised my dad I'd wear it," she says. "It's not so much the bullets he's concerned about. We stop a lot of fishermen. They all carry knives."

After hearing Newell and Humphrey's stories, Jacobson agrees it would be best if her father goes on thinking that anglers pose her biggest risk. Dad doesn't need to hear about the legions of dirty old drunks who routinely beg and plead that Jacobson give them a thorough "cuff and stuff."

"They're always yelling out: 'Arrest me! Arrest me!'" says Jacobson, blushing. "I was busting one guy for a BWI, and he asked if I wanted to party on his boat later that night. I was like, 'No way!'"

Just a month into her gig patrolling Party Cove, Jacobson has seen so much debauchery that she's already immune to much of the flesh circus unfolding around her, offering blind indifference to the exposed breasts and free-swinging genitals.

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1 comments
onedotson
onedotson

Nobody wants to comment on this lol-- I've actually never heard of such and I live on a prostitute set lol. But these same people troll the city crime stories to tell us how bad we are. Romans.

 
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