The incredibly true story of my relationship with my stepmom

This story begins in 1984, when I was 6 years old and had just begun second grade. Like so many people of my generation, my parents divorced, and in this case my dad immediately moved in with another woman, Elizabeth (Beth), who he married several years later. As I grew up I learned that he had been cheating on my mother with her, ergo, the divorce. Beth was a trophy wife for my father, 14 years younger than him, when they moved in together after the divorce she was 22 and my dad was 36. My father was/is an architect and Beth worked in the office for the firm he was with. On learning of their relationship, the firm fired them both, and they moved to another city a couple hours away. My father retained joint custody of me and my younger sister, and we split our time between his house is the city and living with my mother in the house she kept in the divorce.
Beth was a knockout, as trophy wives usually are. She had an hourglass figure with curves in all the right places, IE, big boobs. I know now that she is a D cup, although that is getting a little ahead of myself. She also had a very pretty face and beautiful blonde hair. Even though I was only a child, and completely unaware of the sexual side of life, I instinctively wanted to please her and craved her attention. This I got in spades. Although I care for my father a great deal, he can also be a real ass and very hard to deal with. He often goes away for weeks at a time on work and even when he is home he works 12-15 hour days coming home to sleep and eat and little else. When he doesn’t go into work on weekends he often goes off hunting or fishing, leaving Beth, who has no interest in these things, home. Thus, when we were at Dad’s house, it was Beth who took care of and entertained us. Even though she worked too, she would make dinner, tuck us in, plan activities and vacations, etc. As I grew up and went through puberty, I began to realize what a sexually desirable woman she was. To recount a couple of episodes from this period of my life, on one activity she had planned we went canoeing, bringing a picnic lunch down a stream. My sister and I were in one canoe with the cooler and she was by herself in a one person kayak. At one point, deciding it was too hot and realizing that our chances of meeting anyone else out in the middle of nowhere were slim, Beth took off her shirt, leaving only a pure white bra between her gorgeous rack and the great outdoors. This was the closest I had ever gotten to seeing actual boob at the time other than my mother, who was nothing to brag about.