Erotik woman hunting My daughter is a nudist friend especially for flirtbook

We embraced the adventure of parenthood fully, and I think we did a great job in raising a happy, healthy young woman. Her figure was slim but shapely, her breasts full and firm. They were crowned with large nipples — darker pink and standing to attention. In hindsight I should have put them all together but I don't think I could ever have guessed what was actually going on!

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 used to sit together and watch Breaking Bad, Game of Thrones and others of that typeand especially surfing the internet. What do you mean when you say you want to be a nudist? I noticed she was keeping her bedroom door shut a lot more.

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. Even if the TV was on, she would always seem to have just come from her bedroom when I got home. It wasn't right, it wasn't modest. My wife and I married young, and Samantha Sam was our only .

She wasn't a little girl any more, she was a grown woman, with a grown woman's body — it just didn't seem appropriate to me for her to have it all on show around her own father. I had my door open and was focussed on my work when she appeared, so I didn't look up at first. When she got her A-levelthey were excellent — I'd never been so proud. 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.

I noticed too that whenever I came home from work or some other trip out, Sam was often not downstairs. 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. 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.

But now I noticed more often than not, the door was closed — and when on rare occasions I asked to come in, there would always be a short pause before I was allowed to enter.

She wasn't wild or a party girl — she'd done well in school and had ambitions to become a nurse. There were a lot of challenges along the way — not least of which when Sam was 11, and my wife passed away following a short illness. 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. Sam told me she had begun to experiment with the "lifestyle" for herself.

But I hadn't seen her in the altogether for many, many years — not since the time when her mother was still alive. I shook my head, confused. This was maybe 3 months away from Sam's 19th birthday.

But now? Now, I'd seen my daughter without her clothes on before — what parent hasn't? 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. 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.

In the privacy of their own home, these friends didn't wear clothes but instead went about completely naked all the time. But we drew strength from one another and between us we made it through. So, I simply put it from my mind, as with the other changes in her behaviour. I feel this is the real me.

Between her legs, her pubic hair — darker and much more brown than the hair on her head — had been trimmed to a narrow strip, no more than a centimetre wide. She seemed a little 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.

She had stood there for 20 minutes now, fully starkers, animatedly enthusing on the virtues of nudism. Her belly was soft with a slight swell, and the stud she wears in her navel glinted gold and sparkling in the light. I'll admit, that got to me, and I started to think about this from a fresh perspective.

I had as much of a social life as I was able to, and did meet women. She used words like "comfortable" and "natural" to talk 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.

You see, I I want to be a nudist. Parenting Sam took up so much of my time that dating was never a priority. 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.

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. To see my daughter's body was that of a beautiful young woman was a lot to deal with.

I brought her a cup of tea in bed one Sunday morning only to discover her shoulders were bare. She wanted to stop wearing clothes at home and was hoping I would permit that. And really, Sam no longer wearing clothes at home would mean no harm to anyone. It's someone who believes that the naked state is natural and chooses not to wear clothes whenever possible. 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.

The final clue I should have observed came when I realised she had stopped wearing a nightdress or pyjamas to bed. 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.

Apparently now, though, she had decided it was time I knew! 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. She was still daddy's girl though, sweet and loving, and very devoted to doing right by her dad.

In the past, I had become used 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. My initial reaction had been to be appalled. She'd always been big on online friendships — 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.

Modesty wasn't related to clothing, she argued, instead it was all in how you behaved. So, gradually, Sam started to encourage me towards giving her my permission.

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. 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.

Becoming a dad was the greatest moment of my life. 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 comfortable with the idea that I was "mum" as well as dad; that she could be open with me about her emotions, her fears, her joys, and her curiosities. She had begun talking with some friends from overseas who she learned practised a nudist lifestyle. Sam's long blonde hair was loose and swept behind her, reaching the middle of her back. 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.

One by one, barriers between us were eroded. 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. 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? Whether just a father's pride or perhaps something more, I had to acknowledge that she had grown up to be a beautiful woman, and that she looked fantastic without her clothes on.

I couldn't imagine keeping it a secret from you once I My daughter is a nudist it was what I wanted. Plus, it would cut down a little on our laundry lo! 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.

She was right, why should a father be ashamed or upset at seeing his daughter without her clothes on? It was obviously something that was making her happy, something that was important to her — I couldn't stand in the way of that. 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.

Where has this come from? What are you asking me? So, while all her friends trouped off to university, Sam stayed at home, living with me as she had always done.

Deep down, too — although I didn't admit it at the time — there was a frisson of excitement that her proposal contained. 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.

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. Nudism wasn't sexual — indeed, nudity generally could have no sexual connotations whatsoever. Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements. I raised some of these objections though, and she had some counter-arguments ready.

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.

Her death was so sudden, and both Sam and I were devastated. I'd been working maybe half an hour when Sam came in to talk to me. She was quiet for a moment. I started to find that many of my own objections just didn't stand up to logic. 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.

I couldn't have my 18 year old daughter walking around the house completely naked!