[He kneels, one knee on the seat, reaching down to semi-tentatively run his claws along Boone's shoulder blades lightly, feeling the fur and the muscle beneath it. It's really nice fur, soft. He'd almost want to get lost in it.]

Yes, that works.

[And then he realizes he might need a little massage oil. Does Boone have that? Knowing him, probably not. The demon steps away for a moment to try and find some olive oil in his cabinets and bringing it back to the seat side, wetting his hands in it. Going Greek, so it were.]

[And then his palms are firmly on the werebear's shoulders, pressing in and kneading lightly.]