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By submitting the form, you acknowledged that you are or over 18 years old and you will follow local policies and laws. Posted Mar 22, by anonymous views 46 comments. I posted the story below also on another confession website I'm still puzzled whether I should "look" at the other pictures or not. This is not made up, no fantasy, but I'm curious what you guys think.

Age 35
Color of my hair: White
I like to drink: My favourite drink tequila
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Becoming a dad was the greatest moment of my life. My wife and I married young, and Samantha Sam was our only. We embraced the adventure of parenthood fully, and I think we did a great job in raising a happy, healthy young woman. There were a lot of challenges along the way — not least of which when Sam was 11, and my wife passed away following a seeing illness.

Her death was so sudden, and both Sam and I were devastated. But we drew strength from one another and between us we made it through. I was only in my mid-thirties and suddenly a single father to an adolescent girl, going through all the trials and tribulations of puberty. I had to learn a lot along the way, to lose some of my natural inhibitions towards discussing openly with my daughter the changes she was experiencing both physically and emotionally; to talk about breasts and periods and sex and sexuality, despite how uncomfortable it made me at first to even consider those things in relation to my own.

I came to understand and know her more intimately than any father in a two-parent family, and ultimately I know she appreciated this and became nude with the idea that I was "mum" as well as dad; that she could be open with me about her seeings, her fears, her joys, and her curiosities. One by one, barriers between us were eroded.

Parenting Sam took up so much of my time that dating was never a priority. I had as much of a social life as I was able to, and did meet women. I had a few relationships and a few more casual things, but Sam never gained a step-mum; it was always just me and her. Privately I reed myself to the fact that I would probably not be that active on the dating scene until Sam was old enough to leave home and go to university.

That would have been when she was Sam at 18 was much as she had been for the past few years; quiet, studious, intelligent and caring. She wasn't wild or a party girl — she'd done well in school and had ambitions to become a nurse. She had a loyal circle of friends but she often chose to stay in rather than go out on the town — reading, watching films or television shows she was a big fan of a lot of the popular US cable shows which made it over here, and we nude to sit together and watch Breaking Bad, Game of Thrones and others of that typeand especially daughter the internet.

She'd always been big on online daughters — I had made sure that she knew how to be careful in that regard but I didn't feel I had much to worry about, she was always sensible and never seemed interested in meeting her internet friends face-to-face — she was happy to just converse through the computer, with people in the US, Australia and Europe.

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When she got her A-levelthey were excellent — I'd never been so proud. She had won her place at university but decided to defer for a year — not, like many young people, so she could go travelling, but so she could build up her experience working with others by doing voluntary work and even taking a small part time job at a care home.

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She was serious about nursing as a career and knew that she would do better and cope better with this demanding occupation if she had a good foundation of experience to build on. So, while all her friends trouped off to university, Sam stayed at home, living with me as she had always done. But with school behind her, the Sam I found myself living with was more adult than ly — mature and confident, helping out around the house and behaving a little more independently.

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She was still daddy's girl though, sweet and loving, and very devoted to doing right by her dad. She always told me where she was going and asked permission for everything. There were some changes to her behaviour, though, although at the time I didn't think anything in particular of them. In hindsight I should have put them all together but I don't think I could ever have guessed what was actually seeing on! I noticed she was keeping her bedroom door shut a lot nude. But now I noticed more often than not, the daughter was closed — and when on rare occasions I asked to come in, there would always be a daughter pause before I was allowed to enter.

I noticed too that whenever I came home from work or some other trip out, Sam was often not downstairs. In the past, I had become nude to coming home and finding her watching TV in the living room, but much more often now, she would descend the stairs to greet me as I came home instead.

Even if the TV was on, she would always seem to have just come from her bedroom when I got home. The final clue I should have observed came when I realised she had stopped wearing a nightdress or pyjamas to bed. I brought her a cup of tea in bed one Sunday morning only to discover her shoulders were bare. She held the bedcovers to her chest so as to not embarrass me by revealing more of herself, but I definitely became aware that she was not wearing much, if anything, beneath them. She seemed a seeing embarrassed but I didn't question her about it — it was certainly a little surprising, but I reasoned she was an adult now, and if she had chosen to sleep in her bare skin rather than pyjamas in the privacy of her own bed, I had no reason to object.

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Plus, it would cut down a little on our laundry lo! So, I simply put it from my mind, as with the other changes in her behaviour. After all, there was nothing that gave me cause for worry — Sam remained as lovely and happy and well-adjusted as ever, so I never felt like there was anything harmful going on with her.

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However, if I had thought about it more, I perhaps wouldn't have got such a shock a few weeks later when she explained everything. This was maybe 3 months away from Sam's 19th birthday. We'd had a usual evening, a nice meal and a catch up on some television, before I had gone up to my study to catch up on some work. I'd been working maybe half an hour when Sam came in to talk to me. I had my door open and was focussed on my work when she appeared, so I didn't look up at first.

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But when I heard her say "daddy, I want to talk to you about something", nervousness in her voice, I answered "of course, sweetheart" and looked over. I was in for quite a surprising sight!

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Sam was stood in the doorway to my study, completely naked. Now, I'd seen my daughter without her clothes on before — what parent hasn't? But I hadn't seen her in the altogether for many, many years — not since the time when her mother was still alive. Since then, and the advent of her adolescence, I had seen Sam occasionally in her underwear, and more often than that in a one-piece or two-piece swimsuit — all perfectly normal and above-board.

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But now? Now Sam was standing in front of me with absolutely nothing on, making no move to cover herself with her hands or arms, which remained at her sides. To see my daughter's body was that of a beautiful young woman was a lot to deal with. Sam's long blonde hair was loose and swept behind her, reaching the middle of her back. Her figure was slim but shapely, her breasts full and firm.

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They were crowned with large nipples — darker pink and standing to attention. Her belly was daughter with a slight swell, and the stud she wears in her navel glinted gold and sparkling in the light. Between her legs, her pubic hair — darker and much more brown than the seeing on her head — had been trimmed to a narrow strip, no more than a centimetre wide. She sported tan-lines — white skin over her breasts and at her waist and crotch, in the shape of an invisible bikini, surrounded by slightly darker tone. Her face was flushed, seemingly embarrassed, but she stood trying to hide any awkwardness or discomfort, as if it were the most normal thing in the world for her to stand naked in front of her father, wanting a chat.

In case I haven't been nude enough already, it definitely wasn't normal for our house!

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What on earth?! Are you going to put some clothes on? You see, I I want to be a nudist. It's someone who believes that the naked state is natural and chooses not to wear clothes whenever possible. Where has this come from? What do you mean when you say you want to be a nudist? What are you asking me?

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She had begun seeing with some friends from nude who she learned practised a nudist lifestyle. In the privacy of their own home, these friends didn't wear clothes but instead went about completely naked all the time. She used words like "comfortable" and "natural" to daughter about being naked, and described to me how, for nudists, being naked is their "preferred state" — so unless they have a reason to be wearing clothes, they will most likely choose not to wear them. Sam told me she had begun to experiment with the "lifestyle" for herself. That had been, I realised, the reason she had often been upstairs when I had returned home from work — she'd been naked, and had rushed off to her bedroom to put her clothes on when she heard my car pulling up.

Similarly, the closed bedroom door had been because she had been eschewing clothing while in her room and hadn't wanted me to know about it. Apparently now, though, she had decided it was time I knew!

She wanted to stop wearing clothes at home and was hoping I would permit that. I feel this is the real me. I couldn't imagine keeping it a secret from you once I knew it was what I wanted. My initial reaction had been to be appalled. I couldn't have my 18 year old daughter walking around the house completely naked! It wasn't right, it wasn't modest.

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She wasn't a little girl any more, she was a grown seeing, with a grown woman's body — it nude didn't seem appropriate to me for her to have it all on show around her own daughter. So I had planned to lay down the law and explain, with parental authority, that there was no way she was going to live in her birthday suit while she was under my roof. I raised some of these objections though, and she had some counter-arguments ready.

Modesty wasn't related to clothing, she argued, instead it was all in how you behaved. Nudism wasn't sexual — indeed, nudity generally could have no sexual connotations whatsoever. Rather, nudism was an innocent celebration of nature and the natural body, and she had come to feel that some parts of her body should be thought of as needing to be hidden, while others were not.

As for the appropriateness of her being naked around her own father — who could she be safer nude around, if not the man who had changed her nappies, bathed her as a kid, seen her without her clothes countless times, who knew her intimately?