I knew a very fundie couple back in the day (this was back when we were stationed in Guam - I have probably mentioned them a time or two). In any case, she was raised ultra-fundie from day one, while he, from what I gleaned, was brought up in a semi-dysfunctional, nominally fundie family, and despite being formally "saved" again as a young adult still allowed himself the occasional beer. He never specifically forbade his wife to drink, but, given that his own father battled alcoholism, lectured her on how dangerous it could be to ever take that first drink which could lead you down a slippery slope. And she, though curious, was determined never to give in and taste alcohol just in case it made her lose all control from that moment forward. Once, someone who did not know of their beliefs gave them a bottle of wine, and she was soooo sort of thrilled in a kind of "forbidden fruits" sort of way to have the bottle in her home, even if she never, ever planned on tasting it because her husband had told her that he would prefer she never did. I always found that really sad.
He may honestly have been trying to shield her from what he had experienced in his own family, and she may have just deferred to better judgement in a case of something she knew nothing about, but that glimpse I caught of her finding such fascination in the bottle of wine as a sort of symbol of exotic romance while still determined never to let herself be tempted to taste it just left me kind of wistful for her.