Images running through my head

At some later point, I might explore why these images arouse me so. But for now, just the images:

1. You, in jeans and a white t-shirt, no bra, spread-eagled before me, your wrists and ankles restrained, your movement limited. Me, with a Hitachi Magic Wand in my hand, pressing firmly against your cunt, through your jeans, through your panties, as you writhe.
2. Me, standing; you kneeling, my cock in your mouth;  us both, facing the door as a beautiful woman (or two) we’ve finished drinks with moments before lets herself in with her own key.
3. You getting me the gift of a beautiful woman whom you instruct on pleasing me.

There are more images, of course. But those are three.