What She's Actually Thinking When You Tell Her You're Into Ballbusting

So you finally said it.

You spent weeks working up to it. Maybe months. You rehearsed the conversation in your head a hundred times, tried out different phrasings, workshopped the exact tone.

Should you be casual? Playful? Dead serious? You didn't know, so you just kept waiting for the right moment, which of course never arrived, which is why you eventually just blurted it out over dinner or in bed or — god help you — in the car.

"So, um... there's this thing I'm into. I'd love for you to kick me in the nads..."

And now I'm looking at you.

You think you know what I'm thinking. You don't. You have absolutely no idea. So let me walk you through it, minute by minute, because someone needs to.

Minute One: Processing

I heard what you said. I'm just taking a second.

Not because I'm shocked. Not because I'm disgusted. Not because I'm about to break up with you. I'm taking a second because I'm running through everything I know about you and trying to reconcile it with what you just told me, and the truth is it actually fits better than you think it does.

That time you flinched at a joke about getting kicked in the balls. That movie scene you had a weird reaction to. The way you get quiet when certain things come up. The small tells that didn't add up to anything on their own but now — oh. Oh. That's what that was.

You think I'm judging you. I'm not. I'm assembling. I'm a detective who just got the missing clue and I am putting the case together in real time.

Minute Two: The Question I'm Not Asking Out Loud

I want to know how long.

Not because it matters — it doesn't — but because I'm curious. When did you know? How old were you? Was there a specific moment, a specific scene, a specific incident that did it? Did you carry this around for years? Did you have it worked out before you were a teenager? Did you find other people who had it too, online or in real life, and feel a wave of relief that you weren't the only one?

I'm not going to ask you any of this right now. You already look like a man who just jumped out of a plane. You don't need me piling on with twenty questions. But I want to know. I'll get around to it eventually, when you've stopped looking at me like I might burn down your house.

Minute Three: The Flattery I'm Not Showing You

You trusted me.

This is not a small thing. You told your girlfriend, your wife, the woman you've been seeing for six weeks, your long-distance whatever — you told a woman with a direct line to your life and your reputation that you have a very specific and deeply private thing you want from her. You handed me something that most men take to their graves. You did that because you thought I was the kind of person who could receive it without making you feel small.

I am quietly very flattered.

I will not tell you I'm quietly very flattered, because then you'll get comfortable, and I'm not ready for you to be comfortable yet. But I am. You made a choice about who to tell. You picked me. Duly noted.

Minute Four: The Curiosity I Absolutely Have

Here's the part I'm really not going to tell you.

I want to try it.

Not because I secretly had a thing for it all along — I didn't, let's be clear — but because I'm a curious person and you just handed me a scenario in which I get to kick a man, specifically you, specifically where it hurts, and the man in question is actively going to thank me for it. That's not a burden. That's a gift. That's a party trick I didn't know was on offer.

I'm running through logistics. Would I use my knee? My foot? A shoe? How hard? What's the actual mechanics of this? How do I find out what works without either undershooting it and disappointing you or overshooting it and sending you to A&E?

I'm mentally rehearsing. You think I'm deciding whether to dump you. I'm deciding whether heels or bare feet would work better for a first attempt.

Minute Five: The Test I'm Already Running

You're watching me carefully. I can feel it. You're looking for the micro-expression that tells you whether you've just made the worst mistake of your life or the best one.

I'm going to keep my face neutral for a moment longer. Just to see what you do.

Because here's what I'm actually testing: I want to know if you regret telling me. I want to see if you start backpedalling, or minimising, or saying "actually never mind, it's not a big deal," or any of the other retreat moves that men make when they realise the silence has gone on too long.

If you backpedal, I'll know you don't really trust me with it yet. If you hold your ground — if you sit there in the discomfort of not knowing what I'm going to say — I'll know you've been carrying this long enough that you're ready to stop carrying it alone.

Hold your ground. I'm almost there.

Minute Six: What I Actually Say

"Tell me more about it."

Four words. Casual tone. Slight smile.

You nearly fall out of your chair. You were braced for rejection, for laughter, for the cold conversational pivot that would tell you we were never going to speak of this again. You were not braced for genuine interest.

This is the moment. Not the telling — the response. You will remember this exact sentence for the rest of your life. It is the moment a private thing you carried alone became a thing you get to share with another person, and the other person said yes, and meant it.

You have no idea yet, but you're about to find out that the part of this you were most afraid of — the telling — was actually the hard part. Everything after this is negotiation, experimentation, laughter, and eventually a lot of other things that will make you very glad you finally said something.

What I'm Thinking Now, Weeks Later

You think you exposed yourself by telling me.

The truth is you handed me the blueprint. You told me exactly what you want, exactly what moves you, exactly how to reach you in a way nothing else can. You gave me leverage and then asked me to use it.

Every time I smile at you a certain way now, you wonder if I'm thinking about it. Usually I am. Sometimes I'm thinking about breakfast. The point is you can't tell anymore, and that's the part you didn't see coming.

You told me the secret. I absorbed the secret. Now the secret lives in the space between us, and I get to decide when it comes back up.

This, by the way, is why you told me in the first place.

Tell me in the comments — how did it go when you told her? And if you haven't told her yet, what are you waiting for?

Watch what happens when a woman decides to use what she knows. Valentina's full video at protecturnuts.com/valentina. Or own everything forever — Universeflix Lifetime VIP — 300 memberships. Ever.