I don't know what the earliest use of telepathy in a work of fiction is, but I don't think there was much in the way of fiction about whole societies of telepaths (without which the lying thing doesn't come into play, since if you're the only telepath in the room, you can still lie) until John W. Campbell became an influential figure in science fiction.
Campbell was fascinated by the potential of psychic ability, and encouraged all writers contributing to Astounding Science Fiction to send him stories about people with such gifts, and explore the implications of that.
The earliest story I know of dealing with telepathic mutants is Olaf Stapledon's Odd John (1935), but Stapledon didn't really develop the telepathy idea much, having other concerns. I don't think he really got into whether telepaths could deceive each other. (Been a while since I read it.)
But once the idea hopped the puddle to the SF pulps, it got more systematic. A.E. Van Vogt came out with Slan (1946), which deals with a race of scientifically created telepathic supermen, feared and hated by normals (Stan Lee never invented anything), but the protagonist spends most of his time away from fellow Slans, learning to use his superior intelligence, as well as his telepathy. But there is a love interest, a fellow Slan, and there is that idea that there is this special communion between them, the sharing of thoughts and feelings.
Alfred Bester published The Demolished Man in 1952, and that might be the best book ever written about telepaths as a group, what it would be like to be able to communicate without speaking. Very inventive and idealistic, but the antagonist is a non-telepath who wants to hide his crime from the psi-cops by means of using what we'd now call an 'ear-worm'--a TV theme song written by a girlfriend of his. He just thinks it to himself, and it blocks telepaths from accessing his deeper thoughts.
Basically, telepaths don't even try to lie to each other in that book--there's enormous trust and fellow feeling between them--the hero can't hide his feelings from a friend, a fellow telepath who is in love with him--he loves her back, but not in the same way. Bester's point is that we'd be better off if we really could see into each others' minds, get rid of all the secrets. But in some ways, we end up identifying more with the individualist murderer.
Then there was Mutant (1953), by Henry Kuttner (under a pseudonym he shared with his wife, C.L. Moore, but I think this one was mainly his).
That's a series of connected short stories about how telepathic mutants had to fight for survival, and eventually created a world where they are the norm--they hear each others' thoughts all the time. Again, they never try to lie to each other, and it's implied that would be futile. Now and then, they have to fly high up in gliders, to get away from the surface noise, relax. But they still have to return to the interconnected-ness of the hive mind eventually, or they'll perish of loneliness. (Most of these stories can be read as metaphors for ordinary social interaction).
Now most people have seen the movie Village of the Damned (1960, based on John Wyndham's The Midwich Cuckoos (1957). The scary little blonde kids with the glowing eyes. Very popular. But they're all of one mind about everything, so they wouldn't try to lie to each other. The character played by George Sanders in the movie can briefly block them out by thinking very intently about a brick wall. (Would this work? How would I know?) But this is just a variation on the jingle in Bester's book, which Wyndham had quite certainly read. The idea of a society of telepathic people got darker as time went on.
Octavia Butler wrote the best novel ever about telepathy when she came up with Mind of My Mind (1977) a prequel to a book she'd published a year earlier, about a future world where telepaths/telekinetics battle with each other and with animalistic creatures descended from humans mutated by an alien virus.
But again, telepaths are portrayed as being part of a collective--Butler calls it 'The Pattern' and they can't lie to each other with their thoughts. They are very dangerous to each other, however, because their gift tends to make them very unstable, if not outright psychotic--so they enter each others' minds cautiously, until the heroine of the book finds a way to bring them all together. The antagonist there is the creator of them all, a very early mutation, who isn't telepathic himself, but can psychically feed on hs children (who he's created by selective breeding over millennia), taking over their bodies, and learning everything they know in the process. He can be deceived, but not for very long.
Now I don't know who first came up with the idea that telepaths could block each other out, create psychic shields. But my take is that for the most part, telepaths in science fiction have been portrayed as not wanting to lie to each other, wanting a greater sense of sharing, of community. And perhaps a diminished sense of individuality, but Butler to some extent questioned that. Her telepaths are very competitive, and it's much less positive than in earlier Campbell-influenced takes on the idea.
However, there are so many science fiction stories about telepaths, you could read for a year, and not scratch the surface.