And yet the slurpy, sloppy, phlegmy, pukey blowjob seems to be experiencing a post-Lovelace renaissance. Or at least a reimagining.

According to TLA Video director of marketing Brian Sokel, the demand for throat fucking is no greater or smaller than the demand for other "extreme" masturbatory material, but it does have a regular fan base. Major studios like Wicked and Evil Angel sell gagging titles, but the super-hardcore stuff is best found in the gorifically explicit gonzo output of dark horse Khan Tusion (Rough Sex, Gag Factor, etc.) and creepy old man Max Hardcore (Extreme Schoolgirls, Anal Vision, etc.).

Both pornographers have accrued numerous AVN nods for their work (some of which refers to its stars as "heads," taping black X's over their eyes and riding their mouths until they puke), as well as harsh criticism. (Not to be blase, but the gag stuff seems pretty benign compared to Hardcore cranking open girls' bums with a speculum, relieving his bladder, then demanding the girl suck out the urine with a hose.)

For Johnny, a 25-year-old straight customer service rep, throat fucking is a favorite bedroom entanglement. "Blowjobs are fun," he enthuses. "I like really filthy, dirty sex."

Johnny says part of the turn-on is visual (the matted hair, the runny mascara, the spit-swaddled chin), and part is rooted in a desire for male dominance. He can trace the evolution of his preference over the last five years, from big boobs to tight asses to anal to throat fucking.

"What orifice is left?" I asked jokingly, not even realizing that he'd more or less overlooked the vagina. (This is not surprising, of course. It's like the Susan Lucci of sex.)

Although Johnny finds the wretching part "too messy," it's pervasive throughout his video collection. For reference, he loans me Gag Me Then Fuck Me and 10 Man Cum Slam #8. I pop the first one onto the DVD player at work, skip to Gia Paloma, who Johnny tells me has "the biggest fuckin' mouth," and spend the next 20 minutes watching the ravenous Steven Tyler look-alike go to town on some South Jersey-ugly stunt cock.

Intrigued by the whole thing, I started to question my own throat-fucking abilities. If deep throating is the crown jewel of the fellatio family, I want to give my man nothing less than the royal treatment.

I started with the FAQ section on Sword Swallowers Association International's Web site, which lead me to Daniel P. Mannix's Memoirs of a Sword Swallower. If they can down everything from dipsticks to carriage axles, I think I can handle the tip of my boyfriend's penis.

I practiced by flattening the back of my throat and forcing the bottom to drop out like one of those centrufugal UFO rides they have at traveling carnivals. I coupled this with the sort of deep gulping a cartoon character might make when swigging a bottle of poison. Not the prettiest sight in the world, but test-driven two nights later, it was a sure hit.

I managed to keep down dinner — an accomplishment in itself — and my boy seemed so thrilled post-climax, he was open to a little reciprocal action.

Now, where's that strap-on?